Silly Robot, Kicks Are For Squids

The guys on my floor are very musical. We have guitar players, djembe players, and even a didgeridoo! However, I'd say the one area in which the guys are lacking is singing. I haven't heard a whole lot of them sing, so I shouldn't be too quick to judge. And if any of my Van Buren 4B guys are reading this, then hey, I'm just calling them like I see them. In any case, I appreciate having suitemates with whom I can jam. Although I have my qualms with those of us who feel the urge to jam at 2:30 in the A.M.

Blogger is driving me crazy. Whenever I post, I like to put one blank line between each paragraph. However, whenever I actually click "Post" and put up a new entry, none of those spaces show up. So, I have to go into the Editor and use my very basic understanding of HTML and RSS and manually tell the computer what to do using script. Every. Stinkin'. Time. Does anyone have any insight about this?

And now, let's relive a famous conversation that is a microcosm for our entire generation.

4-Tay: "No Limit Studios. What's up?"
Prank caller: "Who dis is? Who dis is?"
4-Tay: "This Rappin' 4-Tay. Who is this?"
Prank caller: "Uh, this P."
4-Tay: "P?"
Prank caller: "Yeah, this P."
4-Tay: "P, let me hear you say 'Uhhh!'"
Prank caller: (voice cracks) "Uhhhh!"
4-Tay: "Man, this ain't no mutha-f*ckin' P."

Yes, that's right. That was the opening conversation to the Master P song "Make 'Em Say Uhhh". At this time I would like to add...na, na, na, na...na, na, na, na. That is all.

In other news, did anyone else know that Elliott Smith was dead? Somehow I missed that happening 2.5 years ago. I found out just now. Guess that explains why he hasn't come out with any new albums lately. I really liked his song "Son Of Sam". It is part of my "Mowing The Lawn Mix". A mix that, as you might have guessed, is used when I mow the lawn. I don't like to call it "mowing the lawn" as much as like calling it "getting the yard's ears lowered". Of course, the expression "getting your ears lowered" never really made sense to me. If I get my haircut...wouldn't that make my ears appear higher on my head? Not lower? Maybe I'm overthinking this.

Now, a random poem written by yours truly, Robby Suede Beret.

"Kittens Made Of Play-Doh"

I enjoy leafblowers as much as the next guy
But in the wrong hands
They can be instruments of evil.

iPod, youPod, we all Pod for iPod
What the hell, iRiver?

My english professor despises me
I don't hold it against her
I'm rather despicable
The real question is "Am I "despisable"?

I hope to God that there is never
A Honky-Tonk Bar Association
Because the phrase "honky-tonk"
Is discriminatory toward Tonks.

Teh End.