146.

So, I guess I'll blog again...

It's like three-some-odd-o'clock right now. I really don't feel like looking at the clock to get the exact time. Lol, lazy - I know, right. Oh, wait! I forgot there is a clock on the task bar of the computer. Oops? It's 3:15. Damn, that was a stupid moment. Forgive me, lmao! Wow, I feel like I belong in a V8 commercial right now. None of you motherfuckers better pop out and hit me in the forehead, either. Omg, Firefox recognizes motherfucker as a word. That's insane. Like, there is no red dotted line beneath it. I'm going to use that word a billion times now, motherfucker. w00t. I feel like the kid who discovers the liberation of cursing. Fuck yea!

So, I've just added another project to my plate. I'm now going to do a mixtape hosted by ILLdividual Radio. I know, right? Big things poppin' and little shit stoppin'. I'm mad geeked up about that, too. Kash might kill me for releasing the surprise and mystique of the whole thing, but too late, oops? Lol! I'm quite stoked about it, though. Seriously, with everything that I'm doing - I feel like I owe it to all of you who have been riding with me for these past few years when I haven't put any type of project out. I don't think I can stress it enough. You're all so greatly appreciated and I wouldn't trade any of you for the world. Scratch that, because right now I'd trade you all for some chocolate - no bullshit. That's just how grimy a nigga is right now, sonson.

Eh, this is not the conversation I waited from 7am this morning to have. You know what, though? I'll talk to myself in my blog. Lol, I always crack myself up. Like, you people don't realize how much I truly laugh when I blog. I'm not laughing now because I'm on the phone and it'd be kind of rude to sit here and giggle in this woman's ear at 3:21 AM without a proper explanation on why I'm doing it. Oh, yes - I looked at the clock on the computer and got the correct time this time. Yes, I'm ballllin'. Bitch nigga, get like me. I bet my time righter than yours! Lol, I chuckled. She didn't hear it - good. Word, though - let me figure out what I'ma blog about in this next paragraph, though.

Uh, I hit enter and I still have nothing to talk about. I guess I'll just type until I get a random ass topic to speak about in the middle of a sentence or something. Lol, that happens to me a lot. Have you noticed how random my blogs are, though? Like, I'll be typing and all of a sudden get a new idea and run with it. It's like those breaking news pieces that come on TV while you're watching something you'd been waiting all day to see. Son, that shit bothers me. Like say if they're about to announce the winner one of those little fag ass dating shows you people watch and they're like "BREAKING NEWS! George Bush just ate an apple. Back to you Jill in the studio."

I see all of you ugly people are vlogging now. Seriously, no one wants to see your ugly faces talk. Lizzy, you have some pretty teeth, though. The rest of you niggas are trifling. Word, your faces make me sick. It looks like your breath smells too. I hate that you all have cameras and I don't. Bitch, die. No, seriously - who wants to buy me one? I want to make a vlog or some shit. I want you all to hear my sexy voice and look at my beautiful face. Aw, don't get happy. I'd just masturbate on camera and post it on my blog. Son, I'd be so famous. No homo, though.

Eh, I'm extra horny right now. You know what, never mind. I'm going to keep that to myself. Let me go find some pictures of Beyonce and I'll be back to finish this blog up with one hand. LOL! Okay, I quit. Chronic Masturbatiooon! That song always seems to make me laugh. Lol, I'm going to take my tiimmme. Bwahaha! That shit is hilarious, yo. Maybe I should youtube it and put it on my blog. How about no? Yea, I like that answer.

Hey, you! Yea, mhm - stop reading my blog if you're not going to say anything. I know you sit there and stalk my blog daily, but you have nothing to say. You know what I call that? I call that being a fucking psychopathic stalker. Really, I share my thoughts with you and you just don't say anything. That's why my comments are there. I wouldn't care if my blog wasn't a high traffic area. Bitch, I want to know who's reading my shit. I know you're reading it, though. So I'm talking to you. Smfh, stop reading the comments too. You click that little link and the box pops up all the damned time and you just sit there and read the comments all giggly like. Nigga, comment - damn. It doesn't take that much to say "Good blog" or some shit. Stop being so creepy and stop stalking me, dickwad.

My dick is bigger than youuurrrrrs.
On a cold night, too.