- did you find the spare key to my apartment yet?
Yo, dudes and dudettes
It's MC-Teebee comin to y'all across da webwaves 2nite. Tellin ya the whack and the good bout the phat hos and b-boy akshun from herr to the hood. But wat I wanna no is y I'm spinnin da blog wit such a wiggidy-whack ninties DJ spin, aight? Just chill a mo while I find the tru me again....
Done. Sorry about my little lapse of identity just now. I took a couple of moments to do some deep breathing exercises and centre myself, and I think I'm me again. If I start to drift back into phoenetic spelling and dropping consonants, just give me a little slap around the head.
In six minutes and counting, I should be screeching up my driveway in the trusty Red Rocket (Laser Mark II now has a name! I just came up with it then and I think it's a keeper... thanks everybody) towards a lecture on Australian History. Which begs the question, why am I still sitting here tapping away at a keyboard when I could be doing something like making myself some dinner so I don't pass out from lack of nutrients right when Dr Martin (yes, but ironically he's not incredibly cool and neither does he come in a choice of colours and fabrics) launches into a spiel about Europeans celebrating the landing of the First Fleet in Botany Bay by sitting down and having an orgy. Which by the way is a true story. A far cry from the American pilgrims with their thanksgiving and prayers.
*contemplative moment* Actually, now that that question has begged itself, I think I'm going to answer it and go and make ready to leave. Which means I first have to leave all of you.
Imagine if you had no sense of smell...
Tegan 