HNT: SACRED HEART

*CLICKY CLICKY*


first, click on the merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily rowboat


this is what i've always really wanted to tell you, all this time:






NOW, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE, FOR THE MISSIVE




happy new year, my babies?.........





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THE COOL GRANDMA

all i want for christmas are my two best gilfs



FIRST, CLICK HERE, AND THEN LET'S TALK



are you a cool grandma? what would YOU do when presented with an offer of a blood orgy? grandmas all speak in wise tongues, words laced with years and years of pain, disappointment, and *the ways of the world*. what comes across as funny or strange or out-of-place when a grandma says a cool hip phrase like "dogg" or "heezy" or "off the chain" or *i fucked better than you when i was a virgin*, to the grandma it's just life and telling it like it is. the platitude is to respect your elders simply because they are old and frail and can't move or think anymore because of a long, hard-lived life. i say the platitude becomes a reality, dare say i?, no, it becomes an opportunity, a NECESSITY, you must learn the lingo of your grandma and the rest of the crazy cats at the nursing home in order for YOURSELF to be cool among your peers. believe me, if there's a new catchphrase out there in the cyber ether, Grandma has already heard it and inserted it into her latest rant against the government. in fact, she CREATED that catchphrase, as you'll learn by hacking later. if there's a new gadget, a new tech device, Grandma's on it before you with a cooler-sounding screen handle than yours, LADY FIRE BUSH beats SUPREME HACKER any day, she probably charmed her way into a discount from the nice young man at the sell counter. that reminds me, didn't get the tech device i wanted from santa this year, still ipad2-less, maybe i'll ask my own Grandma to rise from the dead and kick that sorry fat red elf's ass...again




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HNT: CHIPMUNKED FOR CHRISTMAS

*CLICKY CLICKY*


first, click on a seemingly normal christmas card to mercifully end the series



THEN, CLICK HERE FOR AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLVVVVVVVVVIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


oh dave, don't be hard on alvin, don't be so hard on the little scamp, all alvin wants is his motherfucking hula hoop. i mean, what kind of heartless father, or, well, caretaker anyway, if you don't factor in the furry sex, lets his rodent son go through life without the sensation of swinging his hips back and forth in a circular motion? it is everyone's god-given right, EVERYONE'S, to experience the sensation of thrusting your middle-trunk no-no place danger zone back and forth and up and down and swirling, it's an unalienable right...even for aliens.

maybe that was it. maybe that was what went wrong with me. like alvin wanting his hula hoop and later his golden harmonica in that christmas tv special with the ill little boy, did you watch that special show on monday? what was wrong with the little boy anyway? they never said. fever, cough, Plague? maybe if i had gotten my "hula hoop" when i was a kid, which for me was a certain gun that was gonna shoot my eye out, maybe then i would have carried on happily and not needed the services of a blog. i would venture out into the world blissfully unaware of having to type about this exploit of mine and that exploit of mine, gun in hand. okay, i never really wanted a toy gun, i hate guns to be honest, i'm more of a video-game light zapper gun NRA man. what i really wanted for christmas, *here come the tears*, get ready for some major cheese, some the-REAL-meaning-of-christmas hokey declarations from yours truly: what i really wanted for christmas all those years ago was for my family to stay together, me and my three brothers: simon, the smart one; theodore, the fat-yet-happy one who always raped my cookie collections; and of course Dear Leader Alvin, may he rest in peace, his body wrapped in red silks with a giant yellow A stamped on the silks. i still can't believe it's been six years now. that damn wood-chipper...yeah, we tore apart that wood-chipper after the incident like there was no tomorrow, that thing is beyond destroyed now, but you can't erase what happened, what's done is done.

i am a chipmunk, i am a chipmunk who uses his tiny hands and feet to type a blog, a blog which has followers...

what? jesus who?


MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




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cats don't RULE the internet, they SOOTHE the internet

NOW, NOW, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE, FOR UTTER PERFECTION
















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I TURNED ON HER KINDLE SWITCH AND MY PLANE DIDN'T GO DOWN, RIGHT ALEC BALDWIN? SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE REFERENCE, ANYONE?

i really want to fuck the Kindle babe. i know, big surprise for me, huh? but hear me out, the voices in my head actually agree with each other in this instance. i would approach it suchly so that the perfect evening would end up with something like the last pic down up there, with vampiric biting and blood-letting, signs of a good time and release. i'm already a bookworm, i still read beautiful paper books that i relish holding in my hands, crinkling up the pages, sliding my long fingers along the spine of a good book, i'm an anachronism in an age of digital coldness, so i'd be the perfect opposites-attract dude for her, for she is the very spokesperson for all that is cold and heartless and 010101010 easy: KINDLE!!!!

y'know, i think i more want to fuck her character rather than her. well, it's a combination of the two, i suppose, you can't separate the body of the actor with the acting. sure, amy's conventionally attractive, she's HOT AS FUCK as the vernacular goes these days, but it's her quaint and distinctive attitude in the commercials which tops me over. look, like, let's watch this together:


CLICK HERE NOW, RIGHT HERE



see? see? okay, couple of things after that: first of all, it's ME who is the happy-pants. those jeans she has on really accentuate her curves quite quite nicely, the dude who is her "friend" in the spots is a lucky bastard, but you see that knowing look in her eyes, that smart grin? it's clear she's merely pretending to be dumb about it being better to receive than to give, she knows how the old saying goes well enough. actually, the truth is, she really believes deep down in her heart that receiving IS better than giving, she's just going ditzy for the guy 'cause she knows that's some sort of societal norm she must follow, but she knows in her secret heart of hearts that she wants more and more stuff in her life, she wants to RECEIVE things, gold, jewelry, diamonds, and yeah, sure, books, all the stuff that's due to her, that's owed her, and i am the country gentleman who will provide it for her.

also, you see that stance she takes at the end of the commercial? it's like she's preparing to run a short race, she's on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce. whatever she's doing, it's sexy as hell.


CLICK HERE: I WANT TO BE A CHIHUAHUA THAT SHE CARRIES IN HER GIANT PURSE, STRAIGHT UP PARIS-HILTON-CELEBRITY STYLE


CLICK HERE: FOLDING DOWN A PAGE IS REWARDING, MY DEAR, IT'S THE ONLY REWARDING THING I HAVE LEFT IN MY LIFE


CLICK HERE: AGAIN, I STATE, THOSE JEANS ARE MIRACULOUS, I'LL DO WHATEVER I HAVE TO TO MAINTAIN THE PURCHASE OF HOT JEANS FOR YOU. AND I HEAR BELL-BOTTOMS ARE BACK IN STYLE.



CLICK HERE: I WAS WRONG. RED BLOUSE AND HEELS > JEANS







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HNT: NAVEED, GUIDE ME TO MY NEXT PHASE

*CLICKY CLICKY*



first, click on the meeting between the spirit signatures of me and my naveed for #3 in the series


THEN, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE



naveed, guide me to my next phase
the forces have gathered and are attacking me
with steam so hot from the furthest hell down below bottom of the earth
just last night i took out the trash as usual
something to do before the end
i peacefully clear my thoughts as was taught me by my yoga masters
i stare into the black night poked all around by dim stars
i can reach for one of the stars, i concentrate, i lift my hand, my finger
straight up, i am touching the star, grabbing it, clutching it painfully, this symbol of life and light,
this glowing ball of presence, of the proof of *something* out there
i want to jump on it like Mario and jump a second time to space parts unknown
jump onto freedom, onto the beyond beyond
Spirit Guide, i am not worthy, i will pay in the end,
i will have to pay in the end, but lead me to this star,
lead me out of failure, failure me on the surface of this, The Only Living Planet
lead me to the answer, for i have exhausted all mine




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HOW HUNGRY?

first, couple of things off the bat: yes, i have fantasized about *licking* the green m and m babe. does that make me unusual? not in the circles i travel in

second, just throwing it out there on a chilly morning, see if anyone bites: if the Seer sees all, who sees the Seer in order to validate what's being seen?




NOW, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE





which one would you choose? do you like getting eaten or being the eater. i'm a nibbler by habit, scientific studies have proven that smarter people tend to nibble on bread four times a day inbetween meals rather than just have the standard three meals a day. that's me, the nibbler, i had that nickname in college, but that was for something else i did. you?


...bowl of nuts...*beavis and butt-head laugh heheheheh---heheheh---heheheh*...




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HNT: SHARE EARTH LOVE

*CLICKY CLICKY*





first, click on our Mother for #2 in the series


THEN, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE FOR A DIFFERENT KIND OF HOE-DOWN




sometimes i get so lonely i could...

trent lulls me to sleep for the final awakening
starts off slow, but not slow, more like progressively resounding
the beats hit like rocks in socks at the local bar back
the theory, the question of this song, never answered <------skewered
what do i have to do?
at this time of year, when the holly jollies are at their strongest
and lack of family is at its can't-get-away-from-it
the suicide blues are served up with a dash of blog snow
what do i have to say?
do i have to Occupy The Moon in order to build my kingdom?:
build my bride and finally get love
show love, reflect love, create love
create a false empty notion into woman
or into myself, alone on the surface of the dead moon
the drums start pounding, music to my ears, i might even join in the country
liking country music for the first time
put down the Deliverance banjo and pick up the triangle
lost in the Bermuda type,
i pick up the tambourine and try to blend into trent's shouts
what do i need to know?

i must ask, i need a definitive answer, please, before the tidings excruciatingly flow again:
why do you get all the love in the world?




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RESPECT YOUR ELDERS, MAN!!!!!!

CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE, AND THEN LET'S DISCUSS SPORTSMANSHIP...OR WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OLD-DOG FIGHTING TECHNIQUE, Y'KNOW, IT'S ALL COOL








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HNT: I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE: I AM, IN FACT, KEANU REEVES

*CLICKY CLICKY*

dudes, first click on me on my bad hair day, uh, bad sad day, to start up a brand new shiny series, bro!

it's me, keanu, it's really me here, check my facebook and twitter. i have legions of adoring fans, some are human, most are animal, but on that one particular day, i was so dejected after a breakup that not even the poundcake i was eating there tasted good, and poundcake always tastes good to me, so that was a major bummer. because of my bad filming schedule and all the forces of the Cosmic Wave in the Sky coming together at just the right moment, that picture of me was taken, and now i'm an internet meme, and i'm done. i mean, you can't get more famous than being an internets meme, once you achieve that, you live on forever, you're immortal, you're greater than the great philosophers and thinkers and writers of our time. hell, this made me cooler than when i was an actual movie star. eat your heart out, shakespeare and sartre, and that nifty derrida guy.

okay, okay, let's bring it down, this one goes out to all the ladies out there:

CLICK HERE AND LET'S LOVE EACH OTHER A LITTLE HARDER AFTER


did that do it for you? i'm keanu, of course it did. yeah, paula is still my girl, y'know? i have had EXCELLENT ADVENTURES, air-guitaring it with Ol' Abe Lincoln right before he...well, y'know...travelled to those debates. good times, RIP Abe Man, you live on at least in my heart, Abester. i also taught the world that this world is a joke, it's a facade, it's all the Matrix controlling things, so yeah, there's no more need for school and books, just take your Pills and you'll be fine. then there was the time i looked good taking letters out of my mailbox in that one movie, i remember a fall setting of some sort, that was some great sci-fi romance, that's a new sickening genre emerging these days, huh? the sci-fi time-travel romance drama that never makes sense, but hell, i love it, i got paid for that, so whatever. i'm keanu, the baddest mother on the planet, and i'll be sad when i want to.

like the emo song long-ass post title? yeah, that was me, too. LOVE YA, SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY BLOGGER PEEPS!!!!!





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SCAM SIREN SEDUCTION

FIRST, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE




oh to be seduced by this babe on tv
i am a typical weak man and will swallow anything she offers
it's a shame, too, 'cause i really need an ipad,
preferably the ipad 2, the one with the camera, right? camera for HNTs, wink wink
yeah, i need one of those things for this blog and all of the
award-winning writing of novels and screenplays i'm gonna do soon
if i don't die first, that is.
those ipads are cool but are fucking expensive, i mean shit,
i'd need to blow a hellavu lot more holes than i'm now to snatch one of those puppies,
so i rely on the pretty lady on my screen who says she'll
take care of everything and get me my ipad 2 for a red cent.
i believe her, i need this, i need to type more masterpieces, but i also need sex
gorgeous lady on the tv idiot box, she satisfies both of my needs,
on both fronts, i am filled





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HNT: TABLES-TURNED THANKSGIVING

*CLICKY CLICKY*



first, click on my thanksgiving nightmare last night to serve this done series on the table, ready to suck on the last of the cooked scraps



THEN, WAIT, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? NO LINK TO ANOTHER HIP MUSIC VIDEO? WHAT'S GOING ON?!



well, i thought about it, but there really isn't a definitive thanksgiving song the way there are millions of christmas carols. i mean, there's the one about going to Grandma's house, but after the Wine Incident last year, we don't speak to Grandma anymore, we're constantly on eggshells every time she calls, and we dread that 1 AM impromptu visit from her in her old, beaten-up volvo bug





sexy thanksgiving words: meat, dark meat, sauce, virgin cranberry, potato holes, beaning the greens (wink wink), football, tight end, touchdown, SCORE!!!, backyard tight ends, backyard scoring, wearing the silverware in inappropriate places, using the table sans tablecloth for a little "dessert", milk, chocolate milk, drinking the "milk" in your mouth, candles, scented candles, candlewax, glass, and the all-time winner: stuffing



bon appetit, and remember to look at what you're eating before you eat it. that's how i lost my first marriage: wandering eating, it gets you in trouble




HAPPY THANKSGIVING, HAPPY TURKEY DAY, MY BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






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BABE OF THE WEEK: LINDSAY CZARNIAK: UPDATED PICS!!!

CLICK HERE FOR STICKS


CLICK HERE, NOW EVEN THOUGH COUNTRY MUSIC TO ME IS A SYNONYM FOR SATAN HIMSELF, STILL CLICK HERE


CLICK HERE, OH CRAP, RIGHT HERE TO TOP YOURSELF OFF



i get all my sports info from one source: espn. does that make me a shill? yes, yes it does, but i don't care, because espn is the child of abc, which is the parent of something which leads back to disney, walt disney, a man who is more a hero to me than the war hero i pretend to be. without walt disney, i wouldn't want to live in this god-forsaken world. without early mickey mouse and the pirate ride at disneyland, i wouldn't be typing to you right now. when i was deeper in my depression, i still thought that all i had to do to survive was hole up in my dark cavern of a room, pull the blankets up to my eyes, never turn on the lights, and watch hour upon hour of espn programming and just forget that i had social problems. you should have seen me, it was pathetic even for my standards, i lived all my failed tennis-star dreams through these shows. i'd watch religiously JIM ROME, PARDON THE INTERRUPTION, and AROUND THE HORN, every single damn show, 5 days a week, that's 1 and a half hours of witty sports banter a day. sure, i was well-informed, but where did it get me? nowhere, that's what. i still remember AROUND THE HORN with max as the host, that's how far i've been there, max and woody going at each other with verbal fire, i think deep down they really hated each other, those were the false-good times. along the way, my limbic brain kept reminding me that if i didn't at least get some feminine wiles in my sports system, i'd become a jock loaded up on steroids, full of vim and vigor but lousy in bed. eventually, the babes on espn started cathcing my eye more, just ask tony kornheiser about a certain hannah storm dress. then, now, it's lindsay's turn. she is ******* hot, huh? she started co-anchoring the ESPN NEWS segments, and i'd count myself lucky when she hosted the 30-minute segment alone, 'cause i really wanted to know her views on the latter part of the show, y'know, where they would showcase the world toe-curling championships and that one sport where you fling yourself down a grassy hill with a round of cheese to see which breaks their skull at the bottom first. anyway, lindsay has definitely made my sports days brighter. she's a whip-smart babe, too, see she's still new to the anchoring thing, but i've noticed that whenever she first works with a new-to-her anchorman, she knows a little about his back-story and uses it to make the situation more warm and friendly, like reminiscing about a canadian place when she was working with that cool, reference-laden indian canadian anchor. for awhile there i didn't see lindsay, for a week or so she was gone, i wondered if some office politics had reared its ugly head, if some male anchors were feeling jealous and underappreciated, if maybe some race cards would be played, but then she came back. must have been a long vacation or honeymoon or something, i hope she really enjoyed herself, wink wink. no, no need for oj politic cards or climbing the glass ladder, she had returned and all was well. oh, and i've come to my senses, i shun PARDON THE INTERRUPTION now, i hate wilbon for always bagging on federer. i purposely miss AROUND THE HORN, i like Stat Boy as host, he's a cool dude who loves his nintendo, but it just isn't the same after max left. i still drink my daily intake of ROME, however, and i'm quite surprised at this. at first, i hated that smug arrogant ***hole rome, but as i watched more, i realized that i was the ***hole because i was simply jealous of his smarts. when it comes to smart smug, don't hate, IMITATE. so, that's progress, right? fuck, i need to get outside again, been ages since i hit my wimbledon-winning slice serve at some dope on the other side of the net.




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