THe FReCKLeD FINGeR

    Finally I am here!  After god awful support calls and multiple hours of working like a Cambodian pre-teen, the day is here.  With this new web venture, along with the addition to all of the porn sites I am currently a member of, my bill for web use is now through the roof.  Throw in the fact that I am smothered in credit card debt and student loans = a dog shit lifestyle.  WAIT!  THERE'S MORE!  I am unemployed too.  Euthanasia nor all the youth in Asia could help my problem out.  So why spend more money to create a blog filled with cartoons and my rants?  Because, I know there is one special person out there reading.  Love ya Grams. 

    OK, well this is the absolute first posting to this website, so it is only fitting for the subject to be about crack.  Yep, crack cocaine.  I know this may be a little late to be posted, but my senses are a bit delayed, as I myself have been smoking crack.  No, that is not funny nor fair to my drug dealer.  It is actually meth - and meth is funny.  Anyway, back to crack.  I was unfortunate enough to be watching the Grammys a few weeks back and saw how Amy Winehouse cleaned up - in the sense of winning awards, not cleaning up her "addiction to crack".  Now, I am, according to the official website, either the #3 or #4 fan of COPS - the show.  If you want to see someone who currently is on, recently was on, or is in the process of purchasing crack, that is where you turn.  Not the Grammys and not the E! Channel.  Amy Winehouse is not on crack.  Guaranteed.  I guess it seems like such a better (tabloid) story for our Grammy Award winner to have a troubled past and some track marks on her arm. 

    I would like everyone who reads this, all 7 of you, to exercise a little science experiment.  I know it is a little early in the relationship for me to be asking things of you, but this will be fun... and if it isn't, well maybe you will get some crack out of it or some exercise running from police dogs.  Whatever city you are reading this from, and it is pretty much any city, there has to be 'that' area where you aren't supposed to go unless you want to laugh at transvestite prostitutes or buy a nice thick rock of your grocer's choice piece of crack cocaine.  That dark, shadowy place Mufasa warned Simba about.  Forget what Jesus or your parents say, I want you to go there.  Look for a Grammy Award winning singer.  Look for a musician capable of selling millions of records.  Hell, look for a person who still has yet to deficate all over themselves.  Anyone who does anything productive with their lives, does not smoke crack.

I GOT DEEZ CHEESEBURGAS, MAN! 

    It is not like drinking a six pack before a show, smoking a joint between sets or even doing a bump of coke during your encore - It is CRACK!  The most debilitating of all of the drugs.  I challenge Amy Winehouse to a crack smoking contest.  I will go down a few miles to beautiful West Philadelphia and find the most amazing crackhead God put on this 'rock'  - you see what I did there?  You're welcome.  I would like to see which one really smokes crack and then we can all go out for karaoke to see who can hold the best tune.  I bet we all get arrested before 3pm - and no one walks away with a record contract. 

 Bottom Line:  If you want to come across as an awesomely bad-ass rock bitch, try a drug more realistic and believable. Or at least tell me where I can get crack that keeps me functioning enough to sign with a major label ... without the side effect of 3 fatherless kids and whacky case of HIV.