lend me your brain, i'm building an idiot

well...what can i say about spain?
just look: http://www.flickr.com/photos/25952692@N04/
the first 3 pages are barcelona, and the next 5 are seville. unfortunately, i had outlet problems the last 4 days i was in barcelona, so there were no pictures of the sagra de familia, the beach, the 200 year old absinthe bar (yeah!) , the sorta lame metal bar we went to (they played sabbath, though!), or any of our other shinanigans.

it was really awesome to see chippy. i miss that dude a lot, and he's a good compinion. haha...what is a compinion? europe is large and old. the side-streets in both seville and barcelona were probably my favorite thing about the whole trip. sometimes we'd be walking for blocks and i wouldn't notice until i had to double over from the pain in my legs. totally worth it though, as every single thing was interesting. even the burger king was interesting. the hostels i stayed in were all pretty good, but i can't really say i got any good sleep. i tried and tried, though. i bought some shades and some trunks. i got joy a tiny porcelain jewel box (the lid of which was SMASHED by continental airlines), a ring made of dolphins, and a very smooth rock i found in the salt water. i drank a lot but i was vacationing so i decided to ignore my body's desperate cries for silly things like 'water' and 'air'. bad idea, but i'm alive.

you know how jimmy buffet is like the 'party dude'?? the guy who always has a drink in his hand and a joint in the other, donning a ridiculous shirt with parrots smoking rainbow turds, cargo shorts and a beer belly that would make even the ralphiest of kings say "GOD DAMN!!"

(by the way, as is written in the bylaws of the blogger.com blaw blog, you legally have to give me your appreciation for that king ralph reference. you must also appreciate any future references i may make to the movie TRON, bart simpson, hangin' with mr. cooper, the band heart, or lorenzo lamas.)

JIMMY BUFFET BRINGS THE PARTY. he stays up all night, huffing groupie piss and raping his guitar. he's a mastermind-party machine, wielding giant party tentacles and spewing jungle juice from his gold-plated beak onto his willing parrot heads. the party must be fed and who better to douse those greasy gears than the king of the parrots himself, James W. Buffet.

but...shit, man. where's it end?

what i mean to say is...i'd like to see jimmy buffet break down. i want to see him bashing his head against his bathtub and screaming for heroin and ripping his eyebrows out. it's funny to me. it's also funny to dwell on things like this when there's obviously more important things going on everywhere- the war, the elections, my job, anything else...but you'd be surprised how many times a day i think of jimmy buffet's death rattle with the benny hill theme song in the background. i'm a sick, sick man.