Fighting

What’s up, dudes? F---, it’s been a long time. I know, I know. Where the hell’s Greg been? Let’s just say I got tossed in the slammer and leave it at that. Don’t worry, don’t worry. It’s all good. Just…don’t ask. Let’s just say there was a B and E, a construction yard, and some propane, and leave it at that. Don’t worry about me, friends. I’m out, I’m out baby! Ha ha! I’m out and I’ve had a few and I’m just chilling out right now at the Dan’s house (p.s. I don’t think Dan appreciates my drunkenness). But who cares? It’s all good, that’s what I’m saying. I’ve got my dog Pep, I got myself, I got the clothes on my back, and I got my undying, constantly rewarding hatred of yuppies to see me through. I’m a fighter, I’ve been fighting it out on the streets, fighting it here on the site. I can’t complain. Life’s…well, okay, I do have one thing to say. Those beds in prison, man, are they small. Could we do something about that? I mean, come on. Jesus! Well, I better get moving on, my pups barking and Dan’s yawning a whole bunch.

Same old same old,

respect to the Barnyard,

Greg