Built A Moon For My Rocket Ship

Right. Half-day today. Word. Don't show up till noon. Say word. Watch cartoons all morning. That's how I get down. It's how I roll. It's how I do my thing.
I have a list of shit I have to buy soon. This list includes another Playstation, a new leather jacket, sweaters, clothes, rims, a TV, DVD player, stereo, this kick ass key ring I seen over at Tiffany and a boat. Yes. A boat.
I decided last night that I am going to be the guy who lives in the shitty sailboat on the pier. Like the guy in the movies. That's going to be me. Just hanging out on my boat. I'm thinking of doing this in Boston or Seattle. Somewhere where I won't sweat my balls off year round. That will be cool, because no one talks to the hermit guy living on a boat. Now of course I will have to have a job in one of those cities. So find me one.
Last night was an onslaught of decision making for me as I also decided that I clearly must make out with Keira Knightly. This must happen. It is imperative for the safety of the WORLD, nay the UNIVERSE! I would sell my arms and legs to get her to make out with me.
In another decision I made, the Cardinals will win the World Series this year. I decided the Steelers will win the Super Bowl. The Blues will win the Cup, I also decided. I was going to decide about basketball, but I hate basketball, so I said fuck it. I decided that at least four NBA players will be arrested this upcoming season for law violations.
You taught me how to live.
So my effort to get K-Luv to move to Seattle with me seems to be failing. It fails for one main reason. I know he has a phone. I seen it. I have talked on it. I made drunk phone calls to Louis on it. I have heard it ring. I have been in its presence. I have had it in my pocket. I know he know how to use it. He has called me on it. I have seen him use it. However, lately it would seem that he has either lost it, broken it or has sustained brain trauma on the part of the brain that remembers how to answer the phone.