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Saturday, October 13, 2007


When the traffic cop says "stop" you damn well better.
once again going with the crappy emo-band habit of titling things with paragraphs. really putting most titles of songs i want to mock nowadays IS like copying entire sections out of a dictionary.

it seems i have a habit of developing narcolepsy on friday nights, being as i found myself slipping in and out of consciousness. i sort of lose object permanence when i get like that, i feel like i'm shifting in and out of existence, but then again my brain is in the process of going in and out of two stages of activity at relatively fast speeds so i can't blame it if i start thinking like a stoned hippy due to my shifting mental states.

but on to the reason for the title, my genius in drama class in getting back at that stuck up bitch. now your guy's suggestions were pretty good, to come in with bright red hair, or to just plain tell her to fuck off, but i believe my way of doing it was pretty clever too.

see me and my friend found some prop liquor bottles and a flintlock rifle... yeah, you know where this is going. so there i am sitting there in my smoking jacket holding a gin bottle in my hand telling Alvin and his fellow rodents to "tell me about your ice-cold friend" before hitting that bottle like it Jessica Alba and i'd been in prison for 12 years. then i grabbed a beer bottle and whilst syncing with a big wide smile on my face waved my respective alcohol bottles to and fro on beat with the song. unfortunately my sun/basketball rolled away, so i tried to do the "scary sun gonna melt ya" bit when those shrill little rats shriek about the sun's heat, but they took no notice so i just looked foolish[er]. next up was switching into my cop uniform, which i had two sentences to do, so when the went down the street up to the traffic cop they paused a moment because i placed my rifle barrel between Frosty's cold, dead eyes and said "stop!" yeah, i had enough time to put my hat on, put the jacket on, but not button it, and the pants were fucked, i grabbed my gun, and for the first time threated the snowman with deadly force.

then for no appearant reason i had to drag the damn reason i have to pull him off stage, i dropped the cop outfit, which i needed not to, but i had not the time nor the gravitas to put it back on, so i just did it dressed as myself, in my "girl power" t-shirt, black lee jeans and my black sambas, so i kinda looked like one of the prop changers in kabuki theater that inspired the all-black ninja costume.

and oh did the compliments i did receive [Groovin Magic plays now out the ole MP3 player, so just imagine me typing this while shifting side to side and shrugging shoulders to the beat] people were just as annoyed by that song as i was and they loved my spicing it up a bit with my sick sense of humor, and i bet that bitch is so pissed i stole the show and made all these changes last minute, she wanted complete control and wanted to keep it "authentic to the chipmunks" who knew someone could be an intolerable bitch and so incredibly immature? so i got my revenge in the end episode V "JD Strikes Back." i must say that holds pretty well being as that intolerable wench had all the skill at directing that Lucas showed in episodes I-III, and just to keep this clear, in case of future edits, Frosty had no weapons and i shot first, because i'm just a bad-ass like that.

i found out that Wilcock, that insufferable ass-clown: 1, i WAY too obsessed with Greg Gutfeld from Fox News Red Eye, ever since i mentioned it he won't stop making "so you're say we should eat "blank"," jokes. 2, he is considerably dumber than me, i have the highest grade in my class, he has a solid C whilst i have a 97.5% [wings of words, yeah, these diss-fests do make me feel like i could fly]. and 3, he's a paranoid government fearing dipshit. this coming from me, who believes most conspiracies, but i mean this is on the level of saying Martin Luther King Jr killed Kennedy or vice versa.

-quote-

Wilcock: The goverment controls everything in your life.

Me: Yeah, they tell me when i can take a shit.

Wilcock: They regulate your water...

Me: You're playing this like 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Wilcock: You need a liscence to be born or die.

Me: No, you get one for doing those things, it not like they'll kill you if you don't get the proper paperwork to be born or put you on crazy life support if you didn't get the paperwork to die yet, you're just being irrational incendiary and stupid.

i hope Wilcock gets killed in a freak "accident" in Bryant park at 2 a.m. by man in a unicorn costume with a hole in the back, AND front.

i love my horrible sense of humor

♥ JD Person ♥

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