Friday, July 12, 2002

Marc

Bells are chiming for victory ...

Man. This is awesome. This is just what I fucking needed. And the best part is that none of you are keeping up to date on it. Yeah. That's right. These things aren't posting, which, for some unknown reason, is making me want to write them more and more. I don't get it either.

I've been watching this hour-long special on A & E about Brian Wilson, and I've got Pet Sounds on queue for as soon as it ends. What's the skinny Wilson sister's name? She's hot as shit, dudes. Totally bootylicious. Like Babraham Lincoln and shit.

But I digress.

What's it got to be like to spend two/three years in bed? They said that this wackjob, B. Wilson, spent nearly three years in bed in the early to mid 70's. How does one do that? He said he did a lot of coke and just kind of hung out, and stayed put, and didn't go anywhere. Unbelievable. I could understand if he was fat or something. But he wasn't. Well ... he was kind of fat. But not so fat he couldn't get out of the bedroom. Shit. That's incredible.

And it's true. Matt and Rick have always claimed that they lived near Brian Wilson when they grew up in Geneva. I've got proof that B. Wilson did live in St. Charles, Illinois. I think it was Rick that claims to have made out, or know some dude that made out, with one of Meatloaf's daughters. I'll believe it when I see it.

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