There’s only two scenarios you get to use that phrase in…
If your girlfriend sits you down to have a serious talk, and she explains to you that she has mounted a marital aid onto one of your kayak oars, and now the two of them are in a committed relationship…
Then , you can look her dead in the eyes and says
“….oar what???”
The other scenario is…
If you face a bully.
If some chump out in the world wants your lunch money, you absolutely have the power to straighten your spine, lock in on eye contact and say with the confidence of someone who understands that reality is not what it seems…
“Or what?”
The fuck you gonna do?
(Nothing..)
You’re god damned right,,nothing.
There’s nothing that can be done….
(How’s your memory behaving this morning??)
Let’s do the Litmus test….
“For the love or the lust, nigga’s bustin no nuts, hit em up with the buck, twelve gauge erupt, it’s my art of war… put the niggas on the floor when I’m coming through the door, bringing nothing but terror to the nigga’s that dead..”
BusyBone.
That’s how I check my memory.
How many Busy Bone lyrics I can recall at a moments notice.
(Meme Idea.. Gary Busey having sex and spitting bars..)
Ah…
Busey Bone.
I mean ,, it’s funny, I don’t think it’s “drag it into reality funny”
(It’s funny in my head…)
A lot of things are funny in my head.
The game is,,,not to tell people about it.
(Or what??)
Ahhhh nice.. you brought it back around…we’re flying through space and people don’t matter…”or what?”
(It’s a powerful two words)
Or what?
Yeah.. I like ’em.
Words to live by..
The fuck you gonna do to me?
Nothing..
And why does the Catholic church pick saints after they’re dead?
Seems like you’re calling the game after the game is over.
Seems like some bullshit
(like the end of the world?)
Yeah, it’s just a different tactic,, like saying
“hey everybody! Let me get your attention!
There is a special person… There’s a person that God likes..”
Then some poorly dressed peasant chimes in from the crowd.
“let’s talk to him!”
The church representative replies..
“we can’t… he’s dead”
Well….good sir…. Why didn’t you tell us that he was special while he was alive?
I coulda had a beer with that fool.
Coulda inspected him and decided for myself, if I thought he was ‘special’.
He’s dead… Don’t worry about it.
He was super special.
God had a hard on for this one guy…
The man in the crowd retorts
“was he white?
I bet he was white, wasn’t he?”
Then the bishop or whatever clearly starts acting defensive, starts acting like God chooses all peoples to be special, and the color of his skin was just a cowinkydink.
“yeah…he was white”
Sounds like you just picked a dude that you liked.
Now you act like he was important..
That uh…that seems pretty stupid..
Sainthood seems very stupid.
There is no towel to throw in.
Ain’t even no fuckin ring, no ref, no judges.
You’re just out here.
Stupid ass.
Dumb fucker.
These chickens got red fuckin eyes, and they move like a liquid.
I go to feed the cat and there they are, a squad of four.
I yell, I wave my arms around and they scatter, but when I turn around, they’re right fucking there.
Looking to eat what I give away freely.
That’s you.
That’s the value I equate to your living and breathing.
You are poultry and I see it.
I see by the way you dart your head around, I notice your spatial awareness and your red fuckin eyes.
Know what you want…
Somebody oughta eat you.
Somebody oughta see how long you run around with your head cut off.
Somebody oughta pluck them feathers.
Prepare you with a nice lemon seasoning.
Or cajun style.
Roast your chicken ass till you’re black, eat what’s left.
Red eyed little monsters.
Out here disturbing the peace.
“so I beg the Lord to save us all, escape us of misery”
dawn 