Terd Fergusons

Hello again gang, sorry it has once again been so long. the shit has been going down lately. no too crazy but more than any man needs. just started back to good old school again, and it sucks ass. the lady is rocking her scrubs and doing her vet tech thing. one of these days i have high hopes that we will be super rich. but who knows. being way out in the country makes keeping in touch much harder than i originally though. but anyhow now that im done filling yall in on whats going down, it is time to discuss the title of this here blog post. Terd Fergusons. they are everywhere you look. people who are just beyond cheap, cant let anything go. it can be annoying but then if you just remember that they are terd fergusons and then you let them know that they are terd fergusons it tends to make life a little smoother. some people are just douches and when we tell them, it makes us feel better. alrighty gang, well i dont have much tonite, but i will be back to it sooner than you think. tall be easy on the peasy and to all you terd fergusons out there fuck you

My Sentiments

Well ladies and ladiesmen, here we are, you the blog, a computer of some sorts. Getting right down to the stank on the skank, the title of this particular blog is just what this segment is all about. My sentiments; you see not being intimidated by confrontation always leaves a certain amount of openess to other problems that being bluntly honest or unmindful of some one elses little feelings will incite. But dont get it twisted, under just the right circumstances, I may for go giving a fuck just to lay it down to you. To put it in perspective, you will never hear me say "i hate to tell you" cause i dont, if it needs to be said, Im'll fuckin say it. Being that as it may, when it comes to family ya boy has to bite his tounge and take a different route all together. Its a long slippery slope when it comes to family you really care about and something is foul. (and PLEASE beleive me when i say ladies and gents, i aint talking chicken when i say foul). The point of all of this info is to enlighten you the reader, on a subject that has turned my insides out and made me question my own way in life and the decisions i have made thus far. But in the end i feel as though they've made me a little bitch in the process. So here i stand alone once again, thinking "fuck it" there all better off dead by far. But this is my family, what the hell am i thinking this wayabout the people who have instilled the very foundation of all that i hold sacred? There it is, back to square one. If my dear old grandma was still in action i already know these things would have come and passed a long time ag, but without her guidance and wisdom im almost left with an open sore that i can only hope heals soon, one that i call my heart. So their it is gals and gal pals, some more of that ol bullshit infesting upon the mind of the man known as Nikia Jones. No haters (please) i got moves to make, ya'll keep killinit.

Korn

Hello ladies and germs, hope all is ship shape. Getting right into the mix with that flavor you can savor, i gotta tell all about my favorite band of all time. The newer material is a little bit of a let down compared to the cool shit i came up listening to. Back then TRL was hosted by carson daly who had yet to be bought out by the man, he even sported black nail polish and held it down for bands like korn, limp bizkit, TOOL, even the Wu-Tang. (Watch ya step kid) But back to the nitty gritty, my all time favorite song is Got the Life. It says alot by jusy saying so very little. Which if you have come to terms with the atmospheric pressure of the seaport styled blog you already know that suttle shuffle is just the G in somebody. The coolest thing about the band in itself is the videos, almost all the old school animated videos have been drawn by todd mcfarlane himself. (the creative genius behind spawn) Any and everytime i sit for a good listen to the enigma that is korn all i can think about is the cool shit i did while jamming hard to the best of there music. Driving my hoopty, smacking my girlfriend on the ass when it was still a big thrill. Rolling my first spliff, and doing it on the hood of a car in the middle of the night. Memories. Sometimes its all we got, and sometimes its all you want to forget. To all of you out there, be easy hold it down, and smack some ass.

Anticipating

Well sportsfans, the real sportsfans, its just about that time, beer t.v. and some motha fuckin football. I myself will be looking forward to some serious time with an old friend and the practice of the most brutal sport with him, all my good pals in the sandbox will riding high and feelin fly come the end of this month. All in all its just a good time in the life and times of the man known as Nikia Jones, then of course those tasty morsels of cheekiness from the gun man himself. I did stumble upon something rather cool. Yeah i know, its the shit. Moving right along, you gotta check out the new machete movie, its gonna be filled with all kind of cool ass pencas. Yeah. Its gonna be the shit! In other news apparently you only get a ticket in Effingham county for a zone on a routine traffic stop. Also its still illegal to be brown and proud, so fuck the man and his plan. Last but not least, there's the snitches, one that beleive that they appear as plain as one does in there everyday casual wear, but the scent of pork is far too over bearing to even conceive letting your guard down. Thats all for now citizens of gotham, slack a little and hold it down, ya boy is out.

The Knight Rider car

Well gang im back once again and it is of course totally awesome. I have been working the morning shift lately and my boss is all up in my ass so i cant get as much blogging done as i would like. luckily i have an excellent topic to day so you will get quality instead of quantity. Let me ask you a question, what is the coolest car ever? The answer is Kitt the car from knight rider. what a bad ass car, it had the red light in the front that let you know the car was talking, it went fast, if you recall it would go almost 200 mph. pretty bad ass eh? but the reason of this blog isnt just to throw deserved praise on a bad ass car, it is to point out the the original Kitt probably was a gas guzzler. this makes it so ordinary folks like myself cant get one. and we are the people who need cars like that more than anyone else. so here is my idea. we are going to get a black honda civic, give it some tent and then we will attach one of those red lights to the front of it and BAMMO we have a sweet as car very similar to the original Kitt. BAD ASS! but wait we can make it better, thats right i said BETTER. but how you ask? with this. Thats right that is a fucking GPS that talks like Kitt. HOLY SHIT this honda is now truly a mini gas saving Kitt. we have done the unthinkable turned a car no one wants and made it into something everyone NEEDS. looks like its fixing to go down now. i can hear the commericials now. " So you want to get laid but dont know how? Well look no further buy this car now and get laid TONITE!!" this of course would be a monster truck rally annoucer. oh yea, or maybe we could get randy the macho man savage to do it. hell yea. another way to get laid of course is to be like this guy and wear a spandex suit with a picture of yourself on it jumping through a brick wall, does it get any cooler than that. hell no. well guys this has been totally awesome and i hope to be back soon. but until then as always yall be easy on the peasy

On the spot

Never tense, just relaxed, eyes fixed in the general direction of the one causing this confrontation to escalate into what it has now become. Me vs. another, three slow breaths as i slowly prepare to turn my hands and feet into weapons of pain. Then there's his hands, clenched turning into fist ready to fight me. I glare once more, lose the watch, and the chain, Totally relaxed, my hands already know this dance of death, no fixed position, just centered upon the impact of mits to this half assed excuse of a man. My aim is six inches behind the target, his face hole. He lunges and I merely step a inch back and release my hand loosely snapping my wrist at the second of impact. For a moment I look as though I'm stretching forward with my fist in front of me as though I'm blind, only to recoil and send my left hand on an upward arch that connects beautifully with the chin of this half a fucker. At long last the anger wells up and it is no longer the man no one knows by the name of Nikia Jonez in control, only the instinct to finish what has been started. I pummel and push only grab shirt or a wrist and administer more punishment. It all ends with him on his knees if front of me, lots of dirt and disdain mark his fuckin shit ass face. I can feel my conscience slide back into the controls that have went "lights out" in my dome, and now I truly feel as though this has all come to the end. Mercy is not an emotion that I have alot of, but this stupid fuck is lucky enough to get it in the form of my foot on his shoulder, i push he lays back I get in the Granada and put in the wind.

Just for them cool ass G'z

Well my loyal and well educated scrapians, before we get to the brass tax of the past month let us once again send up a big fuck you to the man, letting him down one cool ass motherfucker at a time. Next, big shouts to the gun man himself, i will be hitting your neck of the woods in a matter of a couple of weeks. And of course before we burst the perverbiable bubble, a BIG ass eat shit and die to the new found racist who have dedicated themselves to the removal of best side of ya boy himself. Now then, if you know like i do, there are those who stand out in your mind as far as cool, and altogether a chill ass mofo. This blog is dedicated to all who have jumped in a losing battle for the sake of having your back alone. For any and everybody that has one of those scars you bear with pride, the experience in gaining it and the story of what lead up to the events when that particular tissue was once still imaculate as can be. Last but please beleive not least, all them Glennville Gangstas, now spread all over the beloved dirty dirty, killinit, kickinit, and stickinit like a stamp. But dont feel left out, if step out at night and catch the sight of the blunt smoking slipping and swaying across the moon in the dead of night, rest assured there are at least 3 otha mothafuckas kickinit old skool with ya right then and there.