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Everything posted by sinicalypse

  1. btw, everyone needs to download "pump me up" by trouble funk and unravel the esoteric enigma of squarepusher's "fat controller" and one of those dime-a-dozen autechre "we used to be hip hop, but now we're super hip hop" beats. it blew my mind when i heard it. i think i pissed myself something fierce when the vanity moment of fat controller was declared to me in its original form. and yes, being the dork that i am, i know "i'm the fucking daddy" is from a british b-movie called "scum" where a character pops off the de-facto leader, daddy, near the end, so the quote is in the context of someone realizing their newfound #1 status, much like superjunglist tommy was doing back then with that track (and why not, as mtv used it in their commercials for the 97 or 98 vmas, for christs sake! you go mindfucker!!!) now bye
  2. forgive the gimmick. in this moment of antithesis for me, aka brevity, i just wanna give ups to the ~5 people who have implored me to write a book... at this 100% legit juncture of the ol existence it's prolly one of the biggest factors into realizing confidence previously invisible to a choad-bearing-twatfuck like myself. hey it was either this or claim that i'm dead. anyways, since my life with the thrill kill kult has wrought me to be unilaterally kooler than jesus (that was te name of the first-ever-bbs i called too, ha!!) i can beat him on the resurrection tip and say hollaback on the 27th gwen. btw, being dead lemme tell you one thing about hell. you're assigned an old pentium-2 / 300 machine with ~128 mb ram and ~20 gb of hard drive spac.e however you've got a buggy bloated old crap install of win98 and all your hardware is crap 1997 OEM stylin so like, running winamp takes up 42% resources when you're trying to yank one out to that one scene from "the gift" that any pre-cr00z katie holmes afiocionado should well know. and then like, when you go to burn cds with all this wicked music you've just discovered since settling down in the underworld, the cd-writer is not only a 2x spin tops burner, but it is hellbent on digital glitches that start on the 2nd or 3rd track and make the cd downright unlistenable by the 5th track or so. and you've got a system that would make masta ace incorporated, the original people who were born to roll, piss themselves. and you're trying to hear those last 2-3 phenomenal fucking minutes of "dayvan cowboy" offa the newish boc LP and the glitches fuck up what very well might be one of the current ultimate forms of electronic music. and then you realize you're onto resin hits, the last 1/5 of your 1/5 of yager, and the only carnal desire you have is to come back to some internet bbs and talk shit to people who you're at-best-pretending-that-they-care. that, my friends foes and who gives a fuck about twatface-ers, is hell. so start buying girlscout cookies, drink beer like a good american, and for the love of god ONLY ASPIRE TO GET A JOB SO YOU CAN EARN ENOUGH MONEY TO GO HOME AND FUCK YOUR WIFE! GO TO HEAVEN!! hell is so not for you, cuz like, even on taht oldass p2/300 sfacid 2.0, all 1.5 mb of its mighty prowess, wont run right. and when you're trying to spearhead the genesis of the "ghetto space chicken funk" sub-genre of electronic music, that is more than a blow to the left nostril... that's a shot to the shooter, and if you aint got funk, shit, well i bet you've got spunk motherfucker. ask kathy ireland, if she's not adhered to rachel hunter next door thanks to years of faithful service. so until hell paroles me ont he 27th, just so i know the world hasnt changed on me, i expect all of you to continue to be shit-talking chronic masturbators who couldn't even smell cunt if they were walking next to an old fashioned 500-seat lime pit, let alone work taht mack on shakira or scarlett or somethin... cuz if you start proving me wrong there, why, the domino effect might necessitate me being wrong on everythinbg all the way down to the very core of it all at the pit of the existential void innate to my very existence. and if you want a fucking book someday, that aint the way to do it playboy. btw: http://sense.unif.com/temp/acidvarsity.mp3 -- if you play that real loud, put your hand on the monitor, and then you can channel my aura... well i'll be so scared that y'all will never see me again. so do it, because man otherwise i'm liable to make 5000 more of these posts and you can't stop the perpetual pissing contest of "my knowledge of this dying sub-genre of music is so much better than yours, you immature little piss-beer drinking snares fan" without facing legitimate beef from people who likely have so much beef to give away you'd swear taht they're spearheading a cattle pandemic or somethin. i'm just saying you're all fat and dumb and stupid and i'm the alpha child, which if you think about it is basically the gist of every single post i've ever made on here, whether i've chosen to make that obvious or not... one big thing for thirtyseven in the two-k6 is that i'm not lying anymore. to myself, to anyone and everyone. so put that in your pipe and smoke it. and if it sizzles and you get a massive bellringer, we're on the same wavelength, so hit me up for coffee on the other side. i'm done being a salty cunt. i'm now a happy open vagina imploring you to perambulate into the dark-n-dank depths of my musical netherregion. and i'll rock a party all night. especially if there's a wigger who i'm no-bullshit-10-times-better-at-rapping-than trying to show me up all night long. cuz like, i'm in it for vanity now so SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DIE. bye
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