David Anders

No NARC with a can of SPRAY PAINT and an OLD COUCH tells TV’s David Anders what he CAN and CANNOT surf… Unless you hand him a board and point toward ANY body of water that is, cuz he will NOT do you, him or even his family proud in that puddle. Don’t get me wrong… He can GET UP, but it doesn’t last. (Wait oh shit…I didn’t mean it like that! He’s actually been told on numerous occasions that he “fucks like second place”) Who’s First Place you asked? You guessed it: The Pacific Ocean.

Attention: The above rendering i am sharing for the FIRST TIME EVER (which is kinda a hot scoop if i do say so myself…but as my friend Jess Barb Young gives me the “No You Are Not Gonna Do What I Think You are About to Do, Drop Foot Anders so help me god…” eyes…) Ima instead go ahead and say that… me telling the truth is THiS years HOT..and that specific truth is… These were originally two SEPARATE rad pieces of art by my friend who is gone and has been gone for too long… And I am serving you haphazardly but with heart as all heck in my little slop shop of horrors kinda way.- He woulda liked that word play- I dunno to bring him back in the room again and introduce him to new folk and old and smoke way too many camel lights and stuff... Anyshits/ Let us raise a glass to Eric. To Friendship and of course…To TOOL … and those delicious fucking 🥕 “And the angel of the lord came unto me Snatching me up from my place of slumber And took me on high and higher still Until we moved to the spaces betwixt the air itself And he brought me into a vast farmlands of our own Midwest And as we descended cries of impending doom rose from the soil One thousand nay a million voices full of fear And terror possessed me then And I begged Angel of the Lord what are these tortured screams? And the angel said unto me These are the cries of the carrots, the cries of the carrots! You see, Reverend Maynard Tomorrow is harvest day and to them it is the holocaust And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat Like the tears of one million terrified brothers and roared “Hear me now, I have seen the light! They have a consciousness, they have a life, they have a soul! Damn you! Let the rabbits wear glasses! Save our brothers! Can I get an amen? Can I get a hallelujah? Thank you Jesus This is necessary This is necessary Life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on This is necessary This is necessary Life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life This is necessary This is necessary” Miss you buddy. Say hi to the carrots for me.

Noklahoma! Thanks but nah. I’m good. But while we’re on the subject of hating a team… Lemme riddle ya this, bat stranger. . . I hate the L-Words of Los Angeles MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF which IF you know (me) you know…but other than sports… I’m great! Fuck Both Thems Team! Sigh. #RipCity

You eat breakfast, I smoke it We are not the same

carpetbaggers

Shout at the devil! Like seriously. Fucking lose your voice shouting at the mufucker. It’s the devil. When will you ever get this chance again? Well, yes, when you’re dead and down in the depths with said devil, sure, you’ll be able to do it Daily. Right. 100% correct. Well, ya gotta say something. It’s your future roommate after all… Ask him wear he winters and if he’s seen the “Golden Girls” lost episodes.

10 Years Later, the contest continues… Not a blinker in the bunch

I scream You scream We all scream for the orange twatsicles Severed Head on a Cone Not to eat! Oh no no no. Never. To throw on the ground and kick as we walk away forgetting he ever existed.

wall towers of power

…that time I had an audience with the popes boss…god. He obviously took a shine to me. Unless he’s always glowing? In which case… subelty sure ain’t his strong suit. Anyshits…I don’t remember my first church experience but I certainly do my last. You’re looking at it.