Last night, we had a meeting re: an upcoming story.
Betwixt the foot rubs from the barely clothed supermodels that HP employs (both male and female because attractive is attractive, yo) and taking dips in the massive in-office swimming pool (which, personally, I don't enjoy; it's filled with that European bottled water, and that part is cool, but the little flakes of diamonds that float around in there always get stuck in the mesh of my HP-provided solid gold swim trucks), a conversation sidebar occurred. The gist:
Willie D, God of anarchy and chicken fights, is out of jail.
No one can say for certain exactly when he got out, only that he is, in fact, out. And what's more, he's active -well, as active as any Geto Boy will ever be, anyway-- online. He even has a Twitter account that he uses at his leisure when he descends down from the heavens. Some gems:
Musing on baseball and the general awfulness of the St. Louis Cardinals:
Befriending the Dutch*:
*BTW, WTF is the Dutch guy talking about? Does anyone understand that? It's worse than the broken English that Samantha Mumba's future people were speaking in Time Machine.
And probably the best, most amazing tweet of the year:
Hopefully, HOPEFULLY, this means new music is on the way; if nothing else, it'd be neat to see him pop up at a concert or two.
So.
...
...
...Umm, there's really no appropriate way to end a blog post about Willie D. Eh, let's do it with the joke Willie D (probably) used to tell as an adolescent:
Knock, knock. Who's there? Fuck you!
Thank you for your continued support. Have a safe weekend. Please do not get your hands all bloody from punching on the concrete.
