stasus and the brutal efficiencies of life

waiting to go on a grand, expansive trip must be kind of similar to the experience this dude had; waiting for the doors of his inadvertent incarceration-box to open, he once again free to enjoy the things of the world like oxygen and friends and boobs. how does he move? how does he cope?



also, remember the first time you saw some ants get down on some fresh animal carc-ass? i do. That shit made me feel weird, i would even venture to say queer, not like i wanted to see some penus, but like i wanted to distance myself from the contents of my non-ant stomach and take a break from the terrible transubstantial realities dawning on me. but courage rose within me and spoke thus,

"life wastes no time cleaning up after itself. now go ride your dirt bike over some ill ramps you little redneck."




ps. you dont see it on screen but those lil guys made one ill xylophone out of them gecko bones.