God Bless you Martin Luther “Hypersexual” King Senior

On this day let us all remember MLK”H”KS’S legacy of doing great things like those speeches he gave. And in the spirit of nostalgia: OLD MARIO COMMERCIAL!!!!!! FUN!

Note; Obviously if I were to be serious ever (thanks family for giving me brain things!) I would tell you that in reality Martin Luther King Jr. was an amazing person and so valuable to the civil rights movement and if he had continued to live he would most certainly have made more and more progress for civil liberties and humanity.

So many babies!

Good Bye SVA!

So I’m pretty sure I’m going to drop out of SVA after the school year. And I realize that you all want justification so I’m going to give it to you bluntly and coherently! Too white! SVA is way too white for me! I feel like I’m still in shackles! I feel like my voice will never be heard over the overwhelming din of oppression! I need to be somewhere where my perspective matters! Know what I’m sayin’?! Kumquats and grapefruits, man. Kumquats and grapefruits.

I’m President of Something Significant Y’allz!!

Recent Press Release to the S.V.A. Magazine The Apathetic Nonobserver

As president of SVA’s newly formed League of Vague Uncertainties it has been my duty to guide all members into a state where their input leads to further miscommunication and misunderstanding among all peers. Our lexicon consists of words with double meanings and vague, nondescript words that have no capability of leading towards clarity and confidence in any communication or interaction. I have found my role to be incredibly fulfilling and it brings me deep pleasure to know that I am furthering the general alienation of the common man.
If you have any interest in joining this important and revolutionary League please send your social security number, personal address, tax receipts and birth certificate to HQ and we’ll get you some pamphlets written in Braille.

Remember Tom Green? Remember!

Tom Green is great. I was just reminding myself on the internet and I thought I’d remind you as well. Also, I saw Eraserhead at the IFC today. It looked amazing; I guess it was a brand new digital restoration. For some reason I couldn’t stop laughing during certain parts.

On the news:

Doing Standup:

In Japan:

Challenging ethics:

Death

Today has been one of  my worst in a long time. I am very, very sick in my throat and sinuses. It feels like Ron Paul is in my throat burning tires. My whole body aches, I didn’t hardly get any sleep last night and I have a sharp headache.
Now for a a funny video with some of my heroes!

Some Dope Quas Videos

Fantastic Planet samples throughout this dope, dope, psychedelic joint.

Anybody spot the Cheech Wizard?! Vaughn Bode was dope, check him out!

My Ex Girlfriend

My Dad on Our Trip to Central Los Angeles

Post Stone Improvisation at Three Eastern

“Why don’t you tell me your name?” he whispered suspiciously. But the girl was in no mood for trouble and pushed him onto his bum. Outside she found the streets to be immaculately clean and an Eskimo was licking the side of a garbage can. The girl approached him and enquired, “Are you the philanthropist who has cleaned our streets?” He replied in his native tongue, which meant nothing to the girl. So she frustratingly pushed him down and continued to search for a connection, then she came to a toad eating pork rinds by the Hudson River. The young girl knelt down next to the toad and gave it a suggestive wink. The toad jumped in the girl’s skirt and tried to find a moist cave to hide from his wife in. Again there was no impressing the girl and she squeezed out the animal, along with some vaginal tissue, for she was menstruating. “What a relief she screamed!” she screamed to the clouds. From below the soil of a tree implant on an asphalt sidewalk emerged a dead poet from France, who offered the girl a bottle of wine. There appeared to be no apparent schemes behind the dead French poet; but the dead, the French and poets tend to have deceptive appearances. A club came down upon the girl’s dome. It was not the poet. It was not the toad. It was not the Eskimo. It was not the lecher. It was the girl’s parent, an amoral creature who needed no partner to reproduce. After the parent slurped the last piece of meat from the bones, it threw them into a pot for a stew. The girl entered the kitchen and put her arm around her parent, laughing. “What’s so funny?” asked the parent. “I was just thinking about how acceptable this would be in the Vatican, considering the man was already dead.” The parent frowned, chopped off its daughter’s hair and told her, “Yes, you are correct. The entire situation is very funny.”