Breakout of Senseless Ass Kissing Trenton New Jersey

So you know, it's Trenton, and there ain't much to do here, 'cept hang with my posse at my crib and play the XBox. It's either that, or go to stupid civic meetings, and well, this place is so fucked that there ain't enough time in the week to hit all the meetings, and really, who wants to listen to a bunch of self-important dickheads in costumes or suits tell us how shit is awesome in Trenton, when it so obviously AIN'T? And there ain't many bitches and ho's that go to these meetings, so I invited the posse over and flipped on the XBox last night. And last night, my homie brought over a hallucinogenic toad, and we all took a lick of that ugly warty thing, cuz we're trying to cut back on the pot and the beer (which makes you fat), and at first I thought that crazy toad was a joke. I did really well on my round of "Assassin's Creed" (my latest XBox fav), better than ever, in fact, until I just fuckin' blacked out.

While I was out, I had a vision, and in that vision, my name was Paulie Arselick Pinetella, and I was attached to strings, like a marionette. But I had a cell phone in my pocket, and it rang (the ring tone was Oran "Juice" Jones' "I Saw You and Him, Walking in the Rain." That's some fucked up shit). I answered the phone and it was my puppetmaster, Dougie Palmer. And if things weren't wack enough, Dougie told me I left my collar at his place and that the invisible fence he set up around my brain (which he owned) was not functioning. He was concerned that I would let him down. I told him this was not the case. All he had to do was attach a string to my mouth and I would say whatever he wanted.

I was told to continue being an ignoramus and to make sure I blamed specific people for Trenton's mistakes, like Reverend Coston, and the bloggers — particularly that one who videos the council meetings, and of course, the people of Trenton who do nothing but hate, and hate, and hate. It seemed wrong to me to blame a man of the cloth, and a brother-in-blog who just wants to keep people informed, and the people themselves, who are all just like me and just want to play video games in peace. But I realize now that this was my own conscience asserting itself: it was like in those fucked-up dreams -- you know, the ones where you scream, but no sound comes out? -- I (as Paulie Pinetella) simply could not think for myself, and despite the silent, ineffective scream in my/Paulie's head, the puppetmaster Doug nodded my head for me, through the phone. Fuck, that's fucked.

Ultimately, I — as Paulie P — had no problem blaming everyone else for the latest fuck-up in Trenton. Blame just flowed out of my mouth, like the Delaware flows alongside Rt. 29. All of Paulie's years of experience of blame and hot air, I guess, made that so easy.

After I was done layin' the blame, I heard the Oran "Juice" Jones tune again, and knew it was the Mayor. He asked me to do one more thing. He said, "Hey can you take a look down below and make sure you have no balls?" And again came the conflict of my own spirit fighting in this vision, but I knew in this hallucination the sad truth: if I looked down, there would be no testicles. I was so upset and again, began screaming in sheer terror: I HAD NO FUCKING BALLS! NO BALLS! But no sound came out, and Doug forced me to look down, where it was confirmed, I had no balls. I screamed some more, silently, though I felt on my face (which I was sharing with Pinetella in my bad, bad trip), a smile, and I could see Doug's ass coming at my face. Before I could even scream -- silently or otherwise -- or turn away, Paulie's reflexes kicked in, and I planted a bit ole kiss on the Mayor's ass, deep in the crack.

I came to a short time later, and immediately felt between my legs: Balls. Hallelujah. And no sign of Oran "Juice" Jones on my cell phone. No strings. And maybe better yet, no munchies. Fuckin' Toad Licking will give you one hell of a fucked-up trip, but it kills your appetite, too, and if you're watching your weight, that's not a bad thing. But fuck that shit, Bros, I laying off the toad juice for awhile.

All in all it was quite a frightening experience. I hope I do not have any more visions about being Arselick Paulie. Ever.

G Spot on the Downhigh out!

Fast Times At Central High

I thought I knew everything, then I realized I didn't know as much as I needed. So after a couple of wobbly pops I dialed up my local school super and got me enrolled is some good old fashioned Online Education!

See I heard that if you were a former student of the Daylight/Twilight/Starbright School Program you could take courses for free. Well I was able to pull up my confirmation that I was indeed a fan of the Twilight Zone. And I further told them, I got ripped off, since one of the shows in the DVD I bought from that Rod Serling dude was all bent and out of whack. And it made me feel plumb stupid and unadored.

This was enough for the bigwigs at Trenton High. I'm now taking Chemistry and Biology.

So if you need to get educated, just call 1-800-WTF-Free and get enrolled. There is something for everyone. Just make sure to use the word twilight somewhere in your conversation.

I think TCHS is obligated to assist me if I did not fully prepare myself for life.

I mean I was given a good education, "but I don't think I got the best."

Free courses are a "wonderful thing" because they send the message that the district will not just send me off. It also serves as a motivation for current loafers to do more while they are still in school or traveling abroad.

"It is a win-lose-win- lose a bit- but win big situation."

I was also told that I could take whatever other courses I want, as long as I keep it under $149,00.00. That is so cool.

Trenton Schooling Rocks!

Time for a few more wobbly pops and some corndogs!

G Spot on the Downhigh OUt!

Trenton High is a Blight on Trenton

I don't think we should tear the school down, or even build a new one. Let's just board it up and put those fake windows on it. Paint some students in class sitting at their desks working on the boards, so we can reminisce about what the school that was, as we drive by. Or, why not just board it up one day with everyone in it? Like a learning time capsule.

Trenton High was rated in the "New Jersey School Report," in need of improvement for the 3rd year in a row. So let's see, it sucks, and nobody can even put a lick of paint on a 75-year-old building to save its life (a simple coat of paint might show the kids that people care about them and inspire less suckage), and we are going to build a new school? Duh, whuh?

So let's go over the options:

Let's build a new school. Well let's see, analogy time here. If I buy my son a used car and he runs it into the ground, do I reward him with a shiny new car to run into the ground?

And in this scenario, where we have a brand-new school to run straight into the ground, we've got all of the same playas on deck. How do we take any of this seriously? Didn't I see the School Super on the front page of the Trentonian wearing a clown nose? What's with that. Costume party or job?

Maybe they should gather up all the truants, give them a can of paint and a bag of hammers and let have at it. It couldn't look any worse that it already does.

Let's restore the old building: There are some advantages to the old school. For starters, you always know when it is raining outside. But if it gets fixed, you won't be able to tell if it's raining. Too bad. Considering that the building is 75 years old, and its worst problem is that it rains inside as well as outside the building, that's pretty impressive.

But why are there only two options? Here's another idea: Let's just board this bitch up! I'm having a painting party next weekend. I need some help. Can someone bring measuring tape to get all the windows sized correctly? And we'll need lots and lots of nails and plywood and a few ladders. I think we can cover every window nicely, so it matches so many of our other historic, architectural gems in the city. And we can board it up for a lot less than $170 mill. I figure we could do it for roughly $5,000.00, and we could take the rest and invest it in a new sign for the Trenton Fire Department. That sign is important, since at least 3 people a week see it lit up at night, and that can leave a lasting impression on a mindless moron for a life time.

So, let's spend our money where it counts. Board up the school!

Bottom line: fuck history, fuck the future, fuck now. We need a fuckin' cool neon Fire Deparment! Let's neon that motherfucka so you can see it from outer space. Alien firemen will be so motherfuckan jealous!!!

G Spot on the Downhigh Out!

Palmer Pitching Shitballs in the Twilight of his Career

Yo, Dougie. I know you were a pitcher in baseball, so you must know somebody who can come relieve you of your Mayoralty, as you have already been relieved of your senses.

Methinks that you is pretty much a dickfor. Let's see...most of the citizens want the residency issued enforced. The six council members who have a spine want it enforced. A lawsuit has been filed about the residency situation. So, this is not really a request, it's a demand. Residency waivers are not allowed, there is no loophole, but you're thinking if you scream loud enough you will win.

Don't think you are going to waste my money fighting this in court and get away with it. I don't have a lot of money, I also don't get a lot from the City of Trenton for my money. But, for whatever reason, you think you can spend my money with impunity, and not pay for it down the road. Let me tell you this, Rosy Palm, if you decide to drag this out in court, and spend my money with abandon, we won't forget it any time soon. I know I'm not the only one who will make sure the rest of the world knows about your recklessness with our money, too. So smarten up, pal, before you find yourself without a reason to wear those fancy suits of yours.

People talk about the gangs in Trenton. Well, gangs are bad, mostly because they are impulsive and frustrated. You sir, are a reasonably well-educated, well-manicured Macho Thug. There is isn't much difference between you and an OG in one of our street "clubs," only, there's no excuse for the way you carry on.

I guess if you have no problem being a kept man, then don't worry about me. Since your wife makes pretty good money you'll be fine. Mr. Mayor turns into Mr. Mom. You can ride off into the sunset of Hunterdon County every night. Oh, you already do that. So I guess it will not be a big adjustment.

Hey! How about this: Why don't you run for Mayor again. That would be funny. You have at least one vote already: Pugsley Pintella.

So you still got any heat? Do you still have any respect for yourself? Do the right thing and enforce the laws of Trenton, the same laws everyone else has to follow.

G Spot on the Downhigh Out!