Hey, um, Paris, you wanna go out to my Bronco? I have some killer weed. 

Thats how 2Lo rolls-yo. 

I have a dream....

At first, I don't know where I am, only that I'm not alone. X is there, he's driving. He mutters something about not wanting to get shot. Someone got shot here last week, so X figures this somehow increases his chance of being shot here tonight. "No worries X," I assure him, "I'm packin my one slash eight, and if I whip that shit out, people gonna get fucked up." 2Lo is sitting next to me in the back. He passes that which should always be full. I hit it.... it hits me back. Through the mist, I can see lighted signs. Power? Powder? Ahh, Powell Street. That must be where we are. Suddenly I am aware that we are all seated around a table, but for some reason, we all face the same direction. I am sitting in a barrell chair and it swivels. Music fills the perfume laden air, and we are bathed in ultraviolet light.
I am clutching something in my hand. It's money. I smooth out the bills, all ones. As my wits return, I realize I've been bewitched by a beautiful siren. She is flawless. Her eyes draw me in, I cannot look away. No, wait, those aren't eyes. Where her eyes should be, instead, are two perfectly polished oval mirrors. As she turns, I survey the entire room in the reflection. From the sweet comfort of her gaze I see myself. I look so happy. It is the most honest look I've ever given. This happiness is pure, unpolluted by the oily residue of guilt. The girl strips off her bra and panties and is quickly rewarded witadolla by 2Lo. The Serving Wench returns with ice cold Corona. Half-naked girls moved all around me, brushing by, whispering in my ear. "No thanks, my heart belongs to another", I reply. "She should be up again any minute," and right on cue, she is. She and I share a perfect love, a well defined love, an equal love. "I could stay here forever" I wish outloud. Alas, it must end, for now. I begin my long journey back to my world. Although I must depart, rest assured, I shall return...

Listen!

Listen to MonsterMagnet. Also check-out Snot, and their only studio album-Get Some. The singer of Snot is dead, and that's waaaaay cool.* Peace out...
* the fact that Lynn Strait is dead is not cool. The idea that someone made kickass music, then died, then I came along and found said music, connecting with the dead, now that is fucking waaaaay cool. Everybody dies. Not everyone leaves something worth finding.

!?High?!

I'm trapped in another dimension.

This cropcircleninjastar is going to make a great tatoo. 

When you tell me my pizza will be here in thirty minutes or less, someone has to take responsibility when it's late. 

Say my name

When someone says your name, and you hear it, it imparts energy onto the cosmic center court and it's a jump ball. Use the tip and keep their energy. Now, step up to the mic and Say My Name. Again. Again. Again. Thanks.

Shehawks lose

The Seahawks choked on the last play. How fucking typical. The Huskies lost at ucla. I am going to sleep. Hawkeye, your allright. Thanks for the hospitality. The title is not a typo, it's an insult. Not that I have anything against girls, they just can't play football...get it? Let me just say, before any women get their panties in a bunch, the few that probably can play ain't on my radar. Peace.

Terror alert !!!

The greatest horror movie ever made, is "House of 1000 Corpses" by Rob Zombie. Plus, the psycho bitch has one hell of a nice ass, and she ain't shy about it. My good buddie Brad Dearth, singer for the band "Y", just gave me an advanced copy of the new album. As soon as I get the go ahead, I'll post a song or two. If you are a Tool fan, I highly recomend checking out the String Quartet tribute double album. When I highly recomend something, obey... Anyway pills are kicking in, power to the people, peace out...

It's late...

I am living in the moment, which happens to be late. Tomorrow , um... today, is friday the best day of the week. I'm a gonna enjoy every moment. Hope it snows. Hope the Seahawks just fucking do it. I could whip Goerge Bush's ass at Jepordy. Tool is the best band in the world, but Monster Magnet is my favorite. Peace out-

This is Maiden. She's dope-yo. 

Women, black lights

I was the one that said "love is the answer". Why didn't someone slap me down then?
Because you were already thinking it. But love is not the answer, it's an accessory, like a cup holder or a cd player. Live is the answer. Living with purpose is the chum that brings the sharks. Did I mention that I love strippers? They are the glue that holds this great country of ours together. Experts(Me & 2Lo) agree that if all the strippers quit and there were no ladies to take their place, consumer confidence would plummet. Not to mention all the deejays that would be out of work. Did I mention that I love black lights? They make my teeth look unnaturally white. But if you have the dandruff, steer clear. I like the way black lights bring out the sexy qualities in otherwise average naked women. When the money is spent, and last call has passed, all we have left are the black lights. And they can never take that away from us...

Greetings

My name is brandensbaked. Your's isn't. A lot of this material will be for my entertainment, so if you don't get it, don't sweat it. brandensbaked is an alternate reality which often interacts with this one, in a non congruous way. Feel free to comment on anything. Be warned- if you say something stupid, I will mock you mercilessly. The beauty of this, is that I can revise what I write anytime, while your comments are set in binary stone. So think before you speak, or face shame and ridicule. I'll start us off with a clean, blown glass water bong, filled with ice cold water drawn from an artesian well. Let me load this bone dry, crystally assed, red haired, stinky green inflorescence. Oh, I have a little keif left, I'll sprinkle some on top. Enjoy.