Brown Skin Lady.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Sometimes...you just have to let it out.
Yeah, you think I'm a nice guy. But I can't stand you. Contrary to what you believe, you are not high class. Accept the fact that you were raised in the 909 and come from a white trash family. You look like a giraffe. You're about as smart as rocks. And you have clown feet. Ever heard of Noxzema? Well, even if you did clear up those boils, I mean, zits, you'd still be fugly. That's right, fugly. Fuckin ugly. You are so fugly that guys wouldn't dare to admit to their friends that they got with you when they were drunk. They'd lose all respect and credibility amongst their circle of friends. Seriously, who the hell do you think you are? You think you're in the upper echelon of woman? You think your on top? Shit, you couldn't reach the top on a bad game of Tetris. Get the hell out of my face.
Oh wow. I feel better.
andycat stayed in the red at 11:54 AM
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
CARLOS DECASTRO APPRECIATION POST
I saw him across the RBR studying for the Econ 101 Midterm. I really wanted to ask him if he wanted to study..., but I was nervous. After all, we had only met through Connor once before, and I don't think I made that great of an impression. He was such the Latin Rico Suave Stallion. And I was but a meager dorky Asian. How could someone as debonair as this Prince Charming talk to my goober butt let alone even notice me? But I got the courage:
Andy: Hey, would you mind if I studied with you?
Carlos: Uh, sure.
YES! He remembered me! So soft-spoken was his tone of voice yet so confident was his swagger. Every strand of his hair lay perfectly on his head. This was the beginning of something beautiful. Time felt like it had frozen in the RBR with only a spotlight on Carlos and I. I looked into his...
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Stop the presses! You're not gay. Neither am I. Matter of fact, that's not the only thing we have in common. Yeah so we're battered and bruised. Yeah, we got a civil war going on between East brain and West brain. So we don't have the best paying jobs. Our families are a bit off the wall.
But we've got character. We have substance. You've told me your stories of la familia and I see the soul rebel in you. You're unique sarcasm implies that you are a visionary. I could go on. In fact, I will. We're truly genuine. We're loyal. We're down for our friends like AC's down for OJ. So secure are we with our manhood, that we can be ambiguously gay/ sensitive and then turn it on like a flick of a swtich. We attack on the playground preying mantis style. Say the wrong thing and we'll rip a new asshole in our opponent; leave him with a semi-colon and then beat his ass like a drum.
We are dynamic figures with dynamite soul. You're a muthafuckin P.I.M.P. So am I. The Lakers wreck shop, Stromile Swift rocks a headband, and the Sports Guy is our god. Adonis-like are our physiques. ESPN Insider is our bible. We go hard like terrorists smuggling bombs in our LA SUV's. Our mystique suggests battle. We look at white girls as a novelty. The laws of gravity do not apply to us. We bat right/ throw right. Los Angeles runs deep in our veins. We cook thirty minute rice in twenty minutes. Fuck what ya heard. We didn't get degrees in Economics...
Nah, we wrote the text book on Thuganomics.
andycat stayed in the red at 1:01 AM
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
An interesting point was brought up to me last night. While talking on the phone to Bret, he tells me that I have problems with commiting to the girl I'm dating right now because she's not crazy. You read that correctly, she is not crazy. Is Not. Third person negative present tense of the verb to be.
He brings up this psychoanalytical theory that guys tend to date women that have common personality traits that coincide with their mothers. Well let's analyze some characteristics of my mother:
Insecure.
Tempermental.
Mood Shifter.
Obsessive Compulsive.
Needy/ Non-independent
And then I thought about previous girlfriends. They all shared some of these qualities. I'm not trying to bad-mouth any of these girls. They also had wonerful qualities; humorous, pretty, thoughtful. The good times were indeed fun, and they did teach me some valuable lessons regarding relationships. I was drawn to these girls because I enjoyed the attention they gave, its just that after a while, it became a little too much. And they had to catch the curb from my kick.
This girl's a sweetheart whose company I really enjoy. And she has none of the above flaws. But as I'm trying to figure out my direction, I hope she can remain patient with the path I'm forging.
andycat stayed in the red at 1:50 PM
Monday, August 25, 2003
I wanted to slap this lady who came through the Starbucks Drive Thru the other day. Not only was she fat and disgusting sweating profusely with her caked on make up, crooked teeth, and neck hair; she had the nerve to light up a cigarette...with three children in her backseat. And I was okay with the 5 year old and 8 year old inhaling the second hand smoke. They've probably had enough damage done to them by this age that inhaling sulphur probably wouldn't cause their lungs to collapse any further. Its the two year old toddler in the baby seat directly behind the mother's driving seat that's really made me irate.
And people wonder why kids can be so devlish at times. They never had a chance to begin with.
Ignorant quotes from white people during the course of my lifetime:
"Do Japanese people like gravy?" -- Old white lady standing behind me while i was putting gravy on my potatoes at a buffet
"You fit a profile" -- Explanation from a PIG after I told him that this wasn't the first time I had my car searched for drugs or illegal weapons
"Chinky Chinky Chinaman" -- Taunts heard on the school playground
"Get the Chinese Guy!" -- Fullback yelling to his teammate on the soccer field when I had the ball
"Your sister's half-white? That's so cool!" -- Dumb ass Santa Barbara White Girl
"All Asian People are Rich" -- Rich Kid who had only been over to Asian's with big homes.
"I'm not racist or anything but.....[enter racist quote here]" -- A Racist
Crack-ass Crackers.
andycat stayed in the red at 4:57 PM
Friday, August 22, 2003
GANGSTA APPRECIATION POST
I got a question; as serious as cancer. Where the muthafuckin safe at, somebody better answer! Shyne -- That's gangsta. Download it. This the jam.
A hundred carats in the watch. That's gangsta.
Honey's with diamonds in their navels. That's gangsta.
Bailin out when you locked. That's gangsta.
Money in brown papers bags. That's gangsta.
Leaving cowards laying where they stood. That's gangsta.
Showin love to your hood. That's gangsta.
Andycat in a wifebeater, jeans, timbos, shaved head, and bling in the ear. That's gangsta.
Ronnoc with aviators, sleeveless shirt exposing the fist tat. That's gangsta.
Matt Costello. Period. Gangsta.
DJ rockin the 1's and 2's. Gangsta.
D-DUB blastin fools at The Room and not recalling it in the morning. That's gangsta.
UCSBCUB paying for himself at his own birthday dinner. Gangsta.
Chad Jo. Beanie. Goatee. Sandals. Yo, that's gangsta.
Josh Weiner/ Dave Weiner bond. Gangsta.
I love this word. I'm abusing it like Trailer Trash abuse their kids at Walmart. I'm beating this word to ground.
Beating shit to the ground. That's gangsta.
andycat.blogspot.com. Gangsta.
Shout out. What's gangsta?
andycat stayed in the red at 11:06 AM
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Hey, its just a day in the life, club nights one of the reasons I love life -- Clipse
Some fools/ broads really do live and die for this club life and I just wonder if these nocturnal people actually ever experience the wondrous joys of something I like to call daylight. Got off work a little early last nite, and I was cracked out off my quadruple Espresso, so i thought to myself...Self, lets go on a quest for funk.
I'm very satisfied with my Los Angeles Clubbing Experience. And this is usually goes on in my head upon entering:
0:01: This Music Sucks
0:03: I need a Drink
0:10: I need another Drink
0:12: Oh, She Fly
0:15: Ohh, She's Fly too.
0:20: Got a slight buzz.
0:23: Fuck, this music is loud and obnoxious.
0:27: Need to keep drinking.
0:33: Okay I need to keep drinking to shut off these voices in my head.
0:33-0:60: Duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
1:00-1:30: Lada lada lada lada lada Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
1:30-1:40: What the hell she wearing? She playin herself.
1:41-1:45: What the hell she wearing? Damn she look good.
1:45-2:00: I'm drunk. I'm hungry. Wonder if there's a burrito joint round here. Time to wander.
Just conjecture, but I'd say at least 75% of my clubbing experience is somewhere along those lines. Not a bad time. After all I do juswannachill with the fellas, and with the inebriated mindset, I'm coolin out. Marinatin. Postin. Coastin. Toastin. Drifin on a memory brought forth by this fifth of Hennessy. But every once in a while....
0:01: Awwwwwww Shit. That's the joint. That's the Jam. Turn that shit up.
0:03: Lets get toasty.
0:05: Its crunk up in here.
0:10: I can't stop my head from noddin.
0:11: I can't get this goofy grin off my face.
0:15: Oh Hello. What's your name?
0:20: Yeah, who you wit? Just you and your homegirls?
0:25: Well tell your friends, to get with my friends...and we can be friends.
0:30-0:60: Yeah she diggin the AndyCat Charm.
1:01-1:15: Lets get funky girl.
1:16-1:30: OOOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEE! Homegirl got soul!
1:31-1:40: Lets cool off. Whatcha wanna drink?
2:00: Lemme call you sometime......
I don't even know what my point was anymore. I had too much fun writing that.
Oh yeah. Point is...I checked out Iration at the Atlas Supper Club last nite. The Asian Crowd, with the Funky filipino DJ's spinnin the same dancehall, reggae, lover's rock, and hiphop that they spin every week. I haven't been to a spot like this in quite some time. Not too big of a crowd, after all it was a Wednesday Night. But I could've sworn, I knew at least half the people there. And the other half? They all looked familiar. And it just makes you wonder...is it really that fun? I mean the funk in the trunk is cool and all...but three times a week...every single week?
Don't get me wrong. A good time can be had. I just feel that night life should be a release from the hard work you accomplished during your day life. It shouldn't be a lifestyle.
andycat stayed in the red at 1:55 PM
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Hold up. I need some inspiration for this DAVE WEINER APPRECIATION POST. Where's my Alkaholiks CD? (Background music: Only When I'm Drunk.) That's rite...matter of fact. Should I start drinking right now? It's 10AM. I'm seriously considering it.
***Morphing into Costello State of Mind***
Yeah. I can't do it. Way too early. Way too middle of the week. But here we go:
After talking to you last night, DAAAAAAAM! Time to show love. Don't trip Dave, Bad things happen to Good People. And you? Yeah, we'll all agree, you are textbook good peoples. I first met you in June 1999 at Bike-alog, in Jeff Palley's office. I still remember what you wearing. You were wearing a Blue Oxford Shirt with Khakis. Funny how we clown that now, but that was the steez in 99. You told me you were 19 and a Freshman living at FT and all I could think was..."Man, that's a old-looking 19 year old."
You probably looked at me and thought..."There's not one single hair on that head. Hope he's not gonna hide in the back of my car with panty hose over his face and a crow bar in hand, wait for me to get off work, and then jack me."
Really all we had back then was strictly a employer-employee relationship so its really ironic to think that you were once my boss. Never would I have thought that our relationship would evolve into anything more than just that. Seriously, we had nothing in common, at least tangibly. Outside of work, you ran in a different circle. Your CD collection includes Alabama and Tim McGraw. Your capacity for alcahol could make a camel go dry. And up until a little over a year ago, I never thought of you as anything more than just some little guy with one helluva sonorous voice that I used to work with. But although we differed in preferences, I've never stopped admiring your qualities from Day 1.
Never have I ever witnessed such professionalism at the workplace.
Never have I met a person so tenacious in every endeavor he embarked upon.
Never have I met someone who worked so hard, that he would fall asleep in the classroom or a bar.
Never have I met someone with such mad aptitude, he's a self-taught IT technician.
And the most important quality of all...
Never have I met someone with so much heart.
And that's where we bond. The most important quality of a friend is reliability, and I've always known I could count on you whether it be--
Studying: I remember you looking out for me back in my Junior year with the willingness to help me study for Math 34B and Econ 3B.
Drinking: Always welcoming in your Apartment with a bottle of Goose ready to consume.
Talking: 02/03 has been the most difficult year of my life and you were one of the first people I felt comfortable admitting my depression too.
I've told my therapist that throughout all the drama, the one thing I feel extremely comfortable with in my life is my support network. I only want to surround myself with down-to-earth, steadfast, and soulful people. Thanks for being part of that network Dave.
To the homie, D-Dub, you don't stop.
andycat stayed in the red at 11:41 AM
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
You know sometimes you wont see me blogging for a few days. No particular reason, I'm just not feeling very profound. Nor clever. Probably because I work robotically at the Buck with 6 hour shifts for 9 days straight. Not that I'm complaining. I really have nothing else better to do. Especially out here in Downland. Actually I guess I could...
Work on my swing. Gotta raise that batting average.
Apply to Grad School.
Do some situps.
Get Dirrrrrty.
Form the new A-Team.
Work on my Vietnamese.
Work on my Breaking.
Work on my Taggin.
Work on my DJ'ing.
Work on my flow.
Alrite. Who's on deck for the next APPRECIATION POST? Any volunteers? C'mon don't be shy. There's no such thing as a stupid question. (I really would make an excellent teacher.)
andycat stayed in the red at 11:09 AM
Friday, August 15, 2003
Its 10:30 AM on a Friday morning. I would consider myself fairly sober at the moment. I don't think I would be doing the world justice if I did a MATT COSTELLO APPRECIATION POST without simulatneously feeling these combination of emotions.
Awake for at least 24 hours straight
Piss drunk off Tequila ("the only alcohol that is a stimulant and not a depressant")
Intellectually stimulated off the WSJ and Economist
Chocked full of endorphins after running eight (8) miles around Isla Vista
On a caffeine high from a Caramel Frappacino
Hallucinating from Vicodin ("definitely the coolest drug out their right now, Andy")
Spiritually Awaken from an Ocean Swim
Stuffed from eating ice cream with Chocolate Sauce and Hot Fudge.
I'm gonna try though.
You know how sometimes you're hanging around a person and just from their presence alone, you just feel like some extreme emotion -- uncomfortable, stressed, sad, jovial, etc...? Well just from your presence alone, Matt, I feel muthafuckin invincible. But not just human invincible, more like Video Game invincible. Like Mario on a Mushroom, Fireball, and Star. Remember this? We were at the Santa Monica Beach.
Matt: Hey Andy, let's play chicken.
Andy: What's chicken?
Matt: You start swimming out. You keep on going. The first one to turn back is the chicken.
Andy: Umm...Okay.
That's what I'm talking about! I would normally never do something as extreme as that. But when I'm around you homie, the only question that ever comes to mind is, "Why Not?" Oh man, I love that feeling. I love Alter-ANDY. You my friend, bring out Alter-ANDY, the gangsta Asian Dude with little man syndrome who thinks he can kick everyone's ass.
And you know what else I dig about you? Kweli, De La, Blackstar, Com. Who knew a white boy from Hicksville Danville could have so much soul? About as probable as discovering a 2nd Gen Viet who couldn't speak English until he was 4 and raised in a land of Lifted Trucks with some soul.
Oh wait thats you. Oh wait thats me.
Rolls Dawgs. Partners in Crime.
Fantasy Football.
Labor Day. Yay Area.
Its on like Donkey Kong.
andycat stayed in the red at 11:24 AM
Only a pair of crisp new white shoes can make you feel reborn. So fresh, so clean, I feel like I should be in an Herbal Essence Commercial. Shoes make the outfit. And when you get them at bargain basement prices...oh hell yeah. Thats what I'm talking about. Good Stuff.
andycat stayed in the red at 10:26 AM
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Here we go with the JENN CRAWFORD APPRECIATION POST.
Ok, so we all know that your smokin. In fact, you've got to be the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Ok, so maybe not the prettiest girl I've ever seen. But still, you're the hottest girl I know...in real life. I'm sorry if I made you sick from eating Pioneer Chicken the last time you came to LA, but hey I like the stuff. Their chickens have implants for breasts. Sometimes, big breasts can be a good thing.
Ok, enough with the sarcasm and on to the mushy stuff. Lets look beyond your physical attributes for a second here. When Jenn Crawford comes to mind, I think of extreme inebritation on Halloween '02, my retelling of female conquests to you, the one and only pedicure I've ever given to a girl, peanut butter cookies, Common w/ Planet Asia, and Julie Vongkhamchan. Remember Julie? You tried to hook me up w/ her. I went over to her apartment on a Friday night and helped her pack for her trip to France the following day. We got to talking, everything went real smooth, I kissed her on the cheek at the end of the night, wished her a safe trip to France, and told her I would call her when she got back. Well she came back, and I called, and she never returned the message............man, screw the whole gentleman act, it doesn't get you chicks. Time to be like my man Puff, BAD BOY FOR LIFE. Matter of fact, I'm making a trip over to Fred Seigal once this blog is finished, and purchasing a new wardrobe of strictly SEAN JOHN.
But I digress. I believe I once described you as provocative, and its due to a certain demeanor about you that I haven't quite put a finger on. And its probably because I haven't spent enough time with you. But for some reason, I feel this silent connection with you when we're together. Everytime I see you, you're their with open arms ready to give me this whole-hearted hug. And its extremely genuine. I think you and I are two battered soldiers, with dramatic war stories from the past, and on this quest for love like the proceed drummer. (Hope you got that reference living out in the Illadelph and all.)
Take care of yourself girl.
andycat stayed in the red at 12:30 PM
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
You know how sometimes you're just cruising along during the course of the day...and then, the beat drops. All the sudden your like Faze-O, riding high.
And the beat drop? P.I.M.P. I love this song. And I know we're all sick of hearing 50 this and 50 that, but I gotta give credit where credit is due. Give Snoop the right beat, he'll tear it up. Deep Cover, Next Episode, now P.I.M.P.
Much like Dre's, The Chronic...Get Rich or Die Tryin will be a certified classic.
I'm gonna be Asian 50 for Halloween. White Top Hat, White Wife Beater, White pants, White Bandana. Can't forget the Bling, the magic stick, and of course the IPOD.
Now I just need a Butter PEcan, Puerto Rican by my side.
And maybe a PIMP Legion of Doom. Paint the Picture. We strollin down promenade, I'm in the back. My ridaz:
Chad J -- Leading the pack. He'd be that one loud guy you always see in every entourage screaming, "Get out the way bitch! Here come Asian 50!"
UCSBCUB -- My cock-diesel bodyguard with crazy facial hair, in a wifebeater of course. Ridin shotgun with a sinister mug on his face.
Dale -- Rockin the leisure suit with a 40 oz. in his left hand. Got a glock stuffed in the back of his pants, a 45 locked and loaded in the holster, and a Full Clip hidden in the sock. He's blastin any fool who thinks he tough. He's the only cat that can carry a magic stick as PIMP as Asian 50.
Ronnoc -- Rollin in the White Puma Jump Suit, with the Kangol and aviator glasses. He ain't got time to talk. He's on the celly cell -- lookin important. The only words you hear come out of his mouth are things like, "Make the Drop", "I'm on my way", or "Tienes una problema con tus orejas?! I said 8:30!"
DJ -- My runner. Dressed in the all black Armani suit counting the stack of Benjamins in his hand. When he ain't making deals, in the back of the club, sippin Moet is where you'll find him.
We all got Now and Later Gators on.
andycat stayed in the red at 2:37 PM
Archives are now working.
andycat stayed in the red at 12:38 AM
Friday, August 08, 2003
Are you serious? Not only is it "could my ass be any more sweatier" hot over here in the Land of Up, its drier than UCSBCUB's sense of humor. Its so dry the snot in my nose is crusting up into boogers as I speak.
andycat stayed in the red at 12:12 PM
I haven't watched TV in about 6 weeks. I watched about 4 hours today. Some highlights while marinating to BET this afternoon.
Busta Rhymes. Woo-Hah! Got you all in Check! Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw Yaw.
Dr. Dre. Ring Ding Dong Ringa Ding Ding Dong. Not too sure what that means, but New Jersey Drive was an Ill movie.
And really, how pimp do 50 and Snoop look like in P.I.M.P? PIMP! PIMP! HOORAY! This steel drum beat is off the nose. I need me a pair of Now-n-Later Gators.
Tamia just looking absolutely hot ta def in the F-A-B-O So Into You Video. I'm 24 but shit I'd still put a poster of her on my wall if I had one. I'll admit it. I like the song too. Although I'm not really sure what to make of it when Fabolous says, "As Long as I slide up in you, you growl."
And I gots to give it up to my boys for hookin me up with a funky fresh birthday present. People Under the Stairs. Ugly Duckling. Lifesavas. At the Knitting Factory 9/5. No disrespect to the C-Walkers but its time to show you how the real West Coast rock.
Don't sleep. You might not wake up.
andycat stayed in the red at 1:58 AM
Thursday, August 07, 2003
The past six weeks had me working 60-70 hours per week. And all I kept thinking about was how I couldn't wait to get paid, take a couple of days off, enjoy my birthday, and just celebrate my hard work.
Well, I got paid. I turned 24. And as much as I tried to celebrate in Vegas, I couldn't convince myself to relax. Why? I'm too busy thinking what my next move is gonna be. No teaching position has opened. Starbucks is gettin old. I haven't worked out in two weeks. On the other hand, I got some money in the bank, teaching looks like a viable career option, and I plan on starting Day 1 of the fitness plan tomorrow (Run, Swim, eat chicken breasts, fruit, vegetables, and 8 glasses of water a day). But I still can't relax.
Too many voices in my head. Mood shifting. Highs. Lows. It's been like this for the past week or so. One minute I'm on point like Rod Strickland, charming the ladies, hanging with the fellas. The next, anxiety attacks concerning my future, my income, this cauliflower-like growth. But there is a solution -- keep it moving.
As tired as I've been the past few weeks, I've enjoyed all the work. But now its all over. When I keep moving, I don't think. I just do. When I'm stagnant, I start thinking. When I start thinking, I become anxious. You'll even notice it in these blogs. I start questioning my approach to life, my identity development. My writing is less humorous and more substantial. The soul rebel emerges.
O god. This needs too stop. I'ma start bustin my ass, whether it be job hunting, coffee making, weight lifting, track running, pool swimming, or child teaching. Just so the voices in my head stop going round and round.
And on a lighter note. Yesterday at Sapphire, the world's largest strip club, I was sitting next to a big bald black dude with a white headband and the NBA logo on it. What do you know? Stromile Swift getting a lap dance. I think that topped the earlier sighting of the lead singer from P.O.D walking around the Caesar Forum Shops with a GAP bag in one hand, and a Banana Republic Bag in the other hand. That tripped me out.
andycat stayed in the red at 1:37 AM
Monday, August 04, 2003
So my sister was married this weekend. But before I unleash my thoughts, here's some background info. I have two older sisters. Nancy, 26, the newlywed who lives in LA. Annie, 35, half-white/ half-vietnamese, lives in NY. Annie is my mother's daughter from a previous relationship. She has two children, Olivia 3, and Daniel, 1.5. My mother is 51 years old making her 16 at the time she gave birth to Annie. This was in 1967 during the middle of the Vietnam War. My father's side of the family has no inkling of this Annie character. They perceive her to be my mom's niece.
The father's groom walks up to my mom and says, "You have two very beautiful daughters." (Very true by the way. Good looks run in the family.) Sitting next to my mom is my father's sister, my aunt.
"What is this man talking about?"
"What is this two daughter nonsense?"
"Don't you only have one daughter and one son?"
"What's going on here?"
My mom's response..."He doesn't know what he's talking about. He's just drunk."
Further more, Olivia and Daniel are instructed to not refer to my mom as "Grandma" during the wedding ceremony and dinner. However before the actual wedding, she is "Grandma". After the wedding, she is still "Grandma". But during the wedding, she's just a crazy asian lady. Olivia and Daniel are 3 and 1.5.
Poor grandkids. They must be so confused. They have about 9 grandparents. Biological grandparents. Adopted grandparents. Step grandparents. Illegitimate grandparents. Grandparents who have mistresses. Grandparents one second. Total strangers the next.
Poor Annie. She's been lied to since day 1. Never met her biological father. Found out at 16 who her real mother was.
Poor Dad (my dad). He didn't know what the hell he was getting himself into when he met my mom. We're talking about a lady who has some serious issues and is currently in some mass denial of her previous life in Vietnam. We're also talking about a lady who was smokin back in '75. At 27, I'm sure he was just thinking with his other head. Now I don't condone adultery, but in my father's own infidelity...I understand.
So where do I fit in this whole equation? Well this particular scenario is just one instance of the dysfunctional madness in the Doan Family. And all I can do is what I'm doing write now. Analyze the puzzle, dissect the fragments, and document the experience. I should be bitter. I have been bitter. I'm over it. The shit that's gone down in my 24 years has produced this precocious and introspective nature that you witness when conversing with me. And like a virgin, life experiences come quickly and pass you by. I'm putting it down on e-paper. If I was MC'ing, I'd be puttin it down on wax. Bring it.
Constant elevation causes expansion. I know I got soul.
andycat stayed in the red at 12:19 PM
ESPN
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AIM: ANDYDOAN1
E-Mail: adoan1@hotmail.com
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