tangledupinblue

I ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike
I haven't known peace and quiet for so long I can't remember what it's like.
There's a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin' out of a boxcar door,
You didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done, in the final end he won the wars
After losin' every battle.


~~~~~~daily dylan~~~~~


Well, well, well. Here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known. Like a drifter I was born to walk alone. . . See, there is a little bonus Whitesnake for you. Trash is a giving man. I'm not so sure I picked the right sorbiquet for Suicide Girls. The orgins of Blue Trash comes from my friend, Moses . . . Moses came riding up on a quasar (a little Dead for ya). Now Moses claims that I am a man of blue blood breeding who posesses white trash sensibilities. Ergo, Blue Trash. I like it, and I certainly do have my share of white trash sensibilities, but in reality Trash is a sensitive soul.

The deal is that since I was an ickle law student first on the internet, my name has always been JPKMets, see JPK are my initials (very suavely presidential, don't you think?) and the Mets are the rulers of the world. So now, I have broken with tradition and become Trash. The odd thing is that I don't recognize the name yet. I see one of my lovely friends talkin Trash and I look around to see who tey are speaking to. I guess that time will tell if I can complete the evolution into Trash.

Until that time, Trash elects to refer to himself in the third person whenever he sees fit to aid in the transition. Trash will now experience the joys of TIVO and watch the good parts of today's first Mets preseason game. Reyes got a hit and Cameron went deep and robbed some poor Dodger of a dinger. Trash feels the season will be fantastico.

This is Trash