On January 01, '08, I decided to set the world's record for cycling as many miles in ONE year as possible from a dude who was in a coma for almost a month (7,930.75 miles in '08: I traveled north on I-45; apparently, the coppers don't want me to anymoe and, thus, I got so many miles). Lemme see, um, I don't do wunnin well, I don't do horses, don't do taxis, gotta L hand! WooHoo! I'm quite anal-retentive, I don't drive, don't smoke, don't drink, don't tok right, don't wok right, don't eat right, don't dress right, don't date right, don't spell right, don't smell right, don't like the term 'food-groups' or the metric system, I belch, I rarely drool, I'm copiously cool playing boul (French game involving round objects - how 'trés appropos'), I act on Heaven Above to destroy the onslaught of our superficially horrid, anemic, O-pop-culture, I loooooooove slugs!! I love'm!!! (witheir killer eye sprockets and... and... they even retract if you delicately touch'm!!!) I'm your basic iconoclastic pestilence, I'm the BoxxaRoxx, I'm the forNfood/PhonDude, I'm the avant-garde-lunatic, I useta buy Big Wheels from K-Mart, but grrr, they had flats (no purchase necessary for a diatribe dialect, too); I flatulate 24/7, I strongly believe I'm the reencarnation of Jack Kerouac/Benjamin Net-n-Yahoo, never followed directions well and never will, and I absolutely love to watch them adorable, precious doodle-bugs lazily plodding to find something moist (your 'ants' in the Bible? I prefer sow bugs. God Almighty's not picky. He's got better things to do; we're just forward thinkers, girl) --- I'm your high-octane, psychiatric and uncivilized NTV: don't wanna be a pinhead nomore -Ramones. Though I run like the high-impact, high-intensity reality of 'Retarded-Girl' (see it on cable), I do cycle, got thighs that'll rock-your-world, baby, Jesus LOVES the crazies who decide to baroque, as the Trinity threw-away the mold of this cuniform-uniform, abstract 'Phat-Boy' (one of me is plenty). Thank you. Thank you very much.
