who dat? contest.

(yo stee. i know
who dat?)

last game:

singer mandy moore.

first correct answer:

no one. that doesn't bode well for mandy moore, y'all.

left column was ask today if foreign or retarded? um, what?

young stee behind a desk in a large city

I seem to recognize your face.
Tired, hungover, yet, I can't seem to place it.
Cannot find a smidgen of work you've done all day.
Except for the surfing on the net.
All this napster taking place. You're listening to M.A.S.E.?
You still want me to sign your timecard?
Cans of diet coke, you drink, drink away...
Cans of diet coke, you drink, drink away...
I swear I recognize your clothes.
You wore that shirt yesterday, if I'm not mistaken.
Me, you wouldn't recall, you never talk to me.
It's hard when you're stuck inside this cube.
I hear the phone calls to your friends; Radiohead's The Bends.
Perhaps you don't know that I can hear you.
I just want to scream: Shut Up!
My god it's really loud; I hate Snoop Doggy Dogg.
But now here you are, and here I am-
You just sigh and walk... away?
You just sigh and walk... walk away...
You just sigh and walk... walk away...


...I just found this so funny, I had to share what this person said to me today:

"A little piece of all of us died, the day river phoenix died."
-pamela ribon, being totally serious.

The Larry King Happy Song Corner

One song. Glory. One song. Before I go. Glory. One song to leave behind. Find one song. One last refrain. Glory. From the pretty-boy front man, who wasted opportunity. One song. He had the world at his feet. Glory. In the eyes of a young girl. A young girl. Find glory. Beyond the cheap colored lights. One song. Before the sun sets. Glory - on another empty life. Time flies - time dies. Glory - One blaze of glory. One blaze of glory - glory. Find. Glory. In a song that rings true. Truth like a blazing fire. An eternal flame. Find. One song. A song about love. Glory. From the soul of a young man. A young man. Find. The one song. Before the virus takes hold. Glory. Like a sunset. One song. To redeem this empty life. Time flies. And then - no need to endure anymore. Time dies... speaking of which. Believe it or not, Larry used to be the "pretty-boy front man" of his own little group. We played cheap gin joints the 40's. I played the tuba. It's a very complex instrument. We were the only band on the south side of Brooklyn with a tuba-playing front man. Did I pull in the dames? You betcha. And you know what they say about men who play the tuba... Hmmm. I forget now. Well, whatever it is, every word is true, believe you me!
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