Dahpimpsta.Bagelz.Bigfoot.Me.Myself.I.Bigdeezy.TallBitch.Jew.Balla
Life through the eyes of the tall one they call BigFoot
Look at my tall goofy ass on my WEBCAM.
Past WebJournals: [March 8-11] [March 12-15] [March 16-19]
3/23/01
Wise words of Miller Time, “Retardedest!”
Wise words of Deezy, “Deezy what, Deezy who!”
Wise words of Horn, “I love you, please, these are new boxers!”
Why can’t they make roofs in standard trucks, vans, and cars higher for people like me? To go over a parking concrete block and hit your head on the roof just is painful. I know have a freaking bump the size of Montana on my head, and oh is Montana big. BigFoot wore it pretty bad!!!
My fractured hand has kept me from competing against Newbury today, which sucks ass, but I’m a liability, so I must take it easy. Instead I decided to chill back and get to know one of the hottest sweetest girls, which will go by the name “Miller Time.” It was actually funner then playing tennis, but the day turned to a chilly day as my nipples remained hard the whole match. As you can see from the wise words, Miller Time recited a retarded word, “retardedest.” It was cute indeed, and everyone makes their own weird words, but geeeez! Nutin but love for yah babe!!!
Chickenheads here, Chickenheads there, Chickenheads everywhere!!! Some girls need to act right, and that’s fo sho though. You always finds these “Chickenheads” hanging amongst there girly friend Chickenheads. Always in my face talking this and that, just get up outta my grill and eat some gum, cuz yo breath smell like thunder, and hell nah I don’t want yo number. Chickenheads run a muck all over our world, and they could just about run around with there heads cut off and cause the same drama fo yo momma. They think they belong to a cult, when it is an imaginary cult, and this cult is of a society in which there goal is to Bwok! Bwok! into a man’s pantalones. Some guys enjoy the treatment, but when it’s a Chickenhead, it ain’t the same. I just don’t know what the hell I talking about, hahah Sorry.
For all the Penis Toe fanz, don't worry, they are healing fine, I super-glued the toe partly on, so it's all chill back!
3/22/01
Wise words of Kasch, “Pain is temporary, Pride is forever!”
Wise words of Gabriel, “"I have native american roots. I’m from the Slapaho Tribe, my ancestor was Chief Smakabitch!"
Wise words of Patton, “You don’t wanna fuck with Deezy!”
So there once was this guy named Steve, who thinks he is King, so we will call him King Steve, and he has problems with his cell phone. First a couple of us were chillen with the “Spa-Nazi’s” and as we rushed back to my house to watch the Simpsons, Steve lagged behind asking where his phone was. We didn’t know what he was talking about, but yet we whined and complained as if we knew. He threatened to keep Helvig’s watch if Helvig didn’t tell him of the location of his celly cell. Funny thing Steve didn’t know is that his cell phone hates him, I know because it talked with me, sending me a text message of “I hate the one who wears over-sized shirts.” The final conclusion to that problem was that the phone grew a pair of legs and jumped into the “Spa-Nazi’s” closet, hiding it’s self from King Steve. The following week, same house, we get out of the spa, and King Steve turned his phone off before hand so the “Spa-Nazi’s” wouldn’t spy on it. So I picked his phone up before we were to leave, and I wanted to fiddle with the settings, to give him a hard time, but to my surprise, an access code denied my access. As King Steve laughed, he took the phone from me saying I would never get the code, but as Steve couldn’t enter it correctly, it was a mutual thing. The “Spa-Nazi’s” and I continued to laugh at him for you have got to be an idiot to forget your own code. Idiot I say with passion. Yeah so I deam King Steve a goof for not knowing that his phone is anti-Steve and doesn’t want to be fondled by him. He needs to recharge it and make up.
Luke’s Puch was definately a best buy!!! Flying through my street at around 35-40 miles per hour, letting the breeze flutter my hair and flop my ears around like Dumbo!!! The horn although weak, can be heard all the way down the street, and it seemed to get the attention of a certain beautiful cheerleader, Brittney, down the street, refered to as Mrs. Belhaven Babe. It is seriously a chick picker upper, as she seemed to dig the ride. There is one pessimistic thing wrong with the Puch, which I found out the hard way. Don’t ride it with bear feet!!! I was dumb enough to ride it with bare feet, and as all went well, I took it all the way around my block, and as my feet dangle off the peddals, I hit a little ditch while turning, and my foot scraped on the ground. Little pain battered my mind as I made it back home. As I got into my house, I saw a pool of blood under my foot, as my nail was just about falling off. Pretty gruesome, and then as I felt I would be fine, my brother utters convincing words that it would have to be amputated. Goofball he is, as it adds to my collection of recent injuries including a fracture of my second metacarpal in my hand. So everyone envious of the Penis Toes, they have been injured, but in time they will heal, but remain emotionally scared for life. So if you want to lick my Penis Toes, you might get a little blood and rock sediment also.
3/21/01
Wise words from Katie: "All PIAS guys...I’m not a SKEeeeezzzeeerr!"
Wise words from Deezy: “Trust me, Katie is a skeeeeeezzzzzaaaa!”
Wise words from Gabe: “Silky Smoove = #1 Pimp!”
Lots of people always go to parties, clubs, and what not to socialize, cut a rug and have a couple beers. On the otherhand you have the crunk-drunks who drink more then a couple beers, and the next mourning wake up a huge hangover, wondering if the wet spot on their pants is urine. (Shout Outz to Colby for this one- Inside Joke). The headache continues, and acetametaphine a.k.a. Tylenol just doesn’t seem to work. Well you know what used to work, and still does?? The great ole’ 7-Up. Originally, 7-Up was called "Bib-Label Lithiated Lemon-Lime Soda" and it contained lithium, a strong anti-depressant. With alcohol being a depressant, and 7-Up an anti-depressant, the depressants level each other out, bringing you back to your normal state. The soda was touted as a cure for grouchiness, upset stomachs, and hangovers. Then came the famous line from the 7-Up guy, “Make 7 Up-Yours!!!” Which also means up your day by drinking it, but I prefer the opposite pun meaning: up your a-hole.
I was deemed a “Big Fuckin Smurf,” pardon my French, by this guy today, as I decided to spraypaint my hair blue. When you’re 6’9’ people notice you, as I stick out of a crowd like a tall person in a crowd. While some people liked it, my dim-witted English teached was somewhat confused by it. I still consider her a beetle-looking women that needs to be exterminated, and by exterminated I mean stepped on. The girls seemed to dig it a lot, so you might soon see the “Jolly Blue Giant” walking around with blue hair in the future.
Once again tennis was exciting, and as Wick’s van for beat us back to the parking lot, Horn scuttled away as we pulled up. While everyone was rooting me on to get him, I waited till the precise moment of Horn’s fear grabbing him around the neck, and then the chase was on. Crusing through the wind, I caught the bastard, and with everyone laughing to the bit, I contemplated my actions of a mini-wedgie to be finicky with him. As Horn pleaded saying these exact words, “I love you Dustin, please don’t do it, these are new boxers, please I love you.” Dustin went for the monster wedgie. I dont’t think I got a full rip, for these were good quality boxers,but we got pictures, which I will post soon. Great stuff indeed!!! Penis Toes indeed!!!
3/20/01
Wise words of Horn, “My underwear is still stuck up my asshole.....damn that hurt!”
Wise words of Luke, “A Spa is highly over rated when it is a spa without the water!”
Wise words of Dichter, “How’s your box?“
So they say that nice guys finish last? Well back in the day when I was a good ole’ boy, I never finished last. Maybe that quote has gotten to my head, because I’ve metamorphically become this out of control crazed maniac, and now never finish last, therefore making me not a nice guy. Indeed this quote should be stepped on, spit on and thrown away because it just doesn’t relate to the honest damn truth of reality.
Is it possible to go anywhere in Simi or anywhere without being gawked at by people that think I’m some freak of nature? I’m no different then you, so why can’t you walk by without saying “Freak!” or “Keep it in the circus!” or even my favorite, “Holy Shit it’s Bigfoot!” I want to live a day in my life without people, even my own friends saying something about my soaring stature. Once again I threaten to kick the knee caps of those to try to propagate, instigate, or even masterbate asking for my height. Even though masterbate has nothing to do with my height, I had to throw it in. Long live BigFoot!!!
Stupidest person of the day: The guy who told me a egg could be balanced on it’s end. Or maybe I’m stupid for listening to him. Okie fine, the award is now Co-Stupid people of the day.
I have now turned into a negroid, which is a white guy turning into a black guy due to the ultra-violet rays produced by the blazing sun. I can sit on my chair and smell the burning flesh as of this moment, but it kinda smells like chicken. Since I’m out on the courts everyday for tennis, unless we get kicked off by Wick, the sun hits me for bout two hours, twenty-five minutes, and nineteen seconds on the average. So I can now not be called whitey, or ghostly any more. My red tint will soon tan out, and I will not look so pale, as if I’m dying or sumptin.
Penis Toes here, Penis Toes there, Penis Toes Everywhere, Throw Dem Bowls!!!