Careful, the beverage you're about to enjoy is extremely hot.

✖ There's about to be some serious changes around here. And by "here," I mean the entire planet. Think so? Think so.

✖ But wait! Will this new online HQ effect the goings-on over here at CFY,K? I can say, with some confidence: almost certainly. Will the name change? Is an entirely new URL in the works? I am not sure as of yet. I am right now in the processes of thinking thing through and of pooling my resources. We will see what happens. A lot of it, dear reader, may well be left up to you. Needless to say, anyone who reads this will be kept abreast of any potential changes going on. As for your suggestions, I hope that you have some. Post comments. I read them all.

✖ Kanye geeks out. Lately, me an 'Ye've been on the same damn page. (via Crunk & Disorderly)

✖ Jay P. Otro is putting Team Fahs on blast.

✖ It is, believe it or not, already in the mail, Higgy-baby.

✖ Anvil Rabbit's rapid response notwithstanding, the relentless Shamanzo-baiting continues.

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(But I ain't that lonely yet)

✖ First things, um, second. I have, over the past few days, driven hundreds of miles, connected with representatives from Camdonia, Dio Rai Janeiro, Shaflorracia, and the extended Team Fahs Network. I have gone crazy buck shit, and been hated on for it. I have fielded haranguing shaved Nebraskan phone calls re the Sarchicha vs. Sarceecha debate. (And for that, I must refer to my man Hov.) I will also say that Day 2 Part 2 went way the hell better than Day 2 Part 1.

✖ What with the Camdonians representing, I will now switch all comment-baiting towards Old Man Nicholas. Hiebradond seems to be drifting away, and I don't like it.



✖ Zeke is way more awesome than any of us.

✖ Bouncers are all secretly photographers. Where Dean at?

✖ The watercolorist equivalent to one Jason Duncan may well be this cat Walton Ford. (I may or may not have heard about him in the premier issue of Men's Vogue. Shut up.)

✖ It's been a minute since I've let something like this slip, but anyway I'm in this poetry class these days and I don't even like poetry, but the class itself is kind of amazing, and it's constantly making me think of the nature of writing, and what I think good work ought to look like. And I, today, submit that a decent poem ought to be an exercise in reduction. Stripped of any excess weight and reduced to its essential parts. If it is muscular and quick and lean then it will win in a fight. I want poets to write poetry like Schulz drew Charlie Brown.

✖ Oh, you know I copped the new Cocorosie. Sit tight, Higginblaze!

✖ What are you doing tonight? (Two PBS links on one post! Setting records today, kids.)

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✖ It's been a while since I've had an update.

And I gotta tell you ... I am just not ready to have a new template. I can't seem to make a new one work sufficiently.

Seriously. If anyone knows how to do this shit, Get the fuck at me. (I'm looking at you, Lamar.)

✖ If I were (still) a radio DJ, right now I'd be saying: "I want to send a nice big housewarming hello out to my favorite New San Antonians. They know who they are, ha ha ..."

✖ Speaking of Our Favorite Higginblatts, two things:

1. I didn't call you back. And I'm sorry for this. I got all tied up. I will instead call you extremely late at night.

2. The Higginblazes just sent me the most incredible package ever:



Look at that thing. It's fucking incredible. Can you imagine opening a package and having this be inside? No. You can't. Because the Higginbothams don't send y'alls' stank asses packages ever.

And it's cross-referenced!

✖ Wait wait wait. The Devil Himself and .45 & A Shovel on the same show? I think I smell a takeover. (Word to Jay P. Otro. (Check out Old Dad handling shit!))

✖ B-rett's looking especially fly these days, I gotta admit.

✖ Movie nerds, let the waiting begin.

✖ An exquisite sting felt whenever that kid Catch scoops me on an especially hot link.

✖ So. You've read this far now? Then you win the prize. (Don't say I never gave you nothin'.)

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New Template Teaser.

Bwa ha ha

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The Lamentation

● I figured I'd make the opening graphic all cultured, because this post gets pretty pop-trashy from here on in. So. A little Giotto.

● Man. I just sit in my bedroom not moving at all somehow getting hipper and hipper. But not really.

● I am, since yesterday, wearing that Mobile 17 ringtone thing the fuck out.

● I am now a little bit poorer. Awesome. (You'll get your money, Ladyface.)

● Finally found online! official Dio Rai Janeiro headwear!

● I have a feeling we'll be out of oil in, like, twenty-two months. I don't care. I want a Paul Smith Triumph. (As featured in the photo issue of Esquire, which you should really only purchase because you get to see Keira Knightley's right nipple.)

● Here I am bitching about how there's no more Grand Royal, and then this one cat Stephen McBean starts being all completely amazing all the time. (There's something about a middle ground being struck between several Sarchichan sets of tastes that seems to be happening with these freaks.)

●I wonder how Camdonia feels about the Revolution controller.

One day they will respond.

●Speaking of them cats. We just had the (ahem) Best Idea Ever:



Unfortunately, come draft day, I don't think any of us gets The Miz. (Strangely, we are dead serious, though not as serious as these weirdos.)

Either way, Fahsboro Feelers are detecting a distinct air of disgust wafting over from Hiebradond. And I say to Hiebradond: Well. Where's your map-sketch, mang? Answer me that!

● Higginblatt is right now crossing the country, headed for San Antonio. I wish we could get one of those maps with, like,the dotted line keeping us all up to the minute.

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You Haven't Have You?

Rodney Ronsonol & all the boys up at the Fahsboro Deisgn Lab are hoping that the idea above makes it to production.

● Yo, .45 & A Shovel Ringtones? I'll take it. (Although, at press time, I haven't been able to make it work.)

● The video for the White Stripes' Doorbell is kind of awesome, I think. And it even comes equipped with a favorable Purpology review. (I don't have TV.)

● Dude, I want to be one of those cats that just kicks it all day and has money and resources and my own signature wine and I can just make up and market crazy shit. Sarchicha would eat good.

(I just accidentally typed "eat god" instead of "eat good" and was thinking about how sometimes the mistakes you make are actually more telling than what you intended and then I remembered that I'm back in college taking poetry classes.)

● More fun fun with Google Maps.

● In the hood like bootleg movies.

● From the Interest Fading Fast Department: What Katie Did.

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● I have yet to receive any Sarchichan Map Submissions. Just thought I'd, you know, remind.

● Looking around on this urban legend website a while ago, and I decided that just believing in some weird crap is way more interesting than, like, not believing it.

● Today, world-domination! Tomorrow, the universe! (I only put this here, to be honest, for the H-Bomb. And because it's the coolest thing ever. Zoom in all the way.)

● Holleration, Jay P. Otro.


● The site is pretty awesome, but not as awesome as the sick Dipset belt buckle from six months ago flash application. ("The most technologically advanced piece of clothing since the Hypercolor t-shirt." Word the fuck up.)

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Ok ok ok. First, off: illseed's rumor mill put me onto this. But do it. It rules. Go to Google. Type in "failure." Like the man says, don't hit "Google Search." Hit "I'm Feeling Lucky."


Fun AquaTeen Links.

(The Camdonian Comment Baiting continues.)

Way to steal my idea, Belle and Sebastien.

There's this new thing you have to do to post comments. Aren't you curious about that? (Little lonesome these days.)

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O thin men of Haddam

Oh, y'all ain't heard? I did not belabor the point enough? Old B-E-E's got a new book out. So. Cue the Less Than Zero graffiti, right?

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I very nearly forgot how funny this shit is.

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Oakland! Go ahead and have a cow.

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Check out .45 on the radio! Our Man Skritch is handling shit.

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If you could ever, really, sidle up next to Wallace Stevens, you would really be onto something.

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Best Company Ever

!

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