Archive for August, 1999

Kids on Coffee

Tuesday, August 24th, 1999

I just want to say, that over here at Grayson we got a guy named Kelly. And I don’t really know what the hell Kelly does, but I will say this. He makes the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my hole dern life. I’m talking geek central here. I’m talking about putting water in the bottom of the pot so it don’t burn. I’m talking wetting down the filter before you put coffee growns in it so the water doesn’t shock the coffee. I mean it, the best damn cup of coffee I have ever had. Even better than Dunkin Donut. The reason I say this is because the last year and a half, the coffee you guys make over in the important building taste like doggy bm. And I think you know what I mean. Do you know what it’s like to make a cup of coffee over there before daily’s, dump a whole bowl of sugar and milk in it, and it still tastes like old George just pushed out another film into your cup. Makes your bottom half all sweaty in daily’s. I bet you do. So I’m just sitting here having the best cup of joe I’ve ever had getting ready to kick some more ass on my shot thanks to Kelly.

your pal R.J.Krandell

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I don’t need no booze or drugs I’ll just chug o lug my coffee mug I don’t need no kiss or hugs I’ll just chug o lug my coffee mug

Shitty gear

Monday, August 16th, 1999

Now I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but I got a problem. I went clothes shopping this weekend, and let me tell you folks, it sucks ass. Here is the deal. Nobody and I mean nobody makes clothes for dumpy white guys anymore. Remember the ” I’m going to play tennis” dockers look, remember that. Well I think that was the last time anyone tried to make us dumpy white folks look good. Now I know that hunting supplie stores always are trying to make us look good but that’s different dammit! Nowday’s every pair of jeans is built for the “I’m on Mtv spring break look. Baggy, baggy baggy. Now I don’t know if you people have noticed, but I’ve been doing Tie Bo like a bandit, and I feel like I’m ready for some tight jeans. Not Saterdaynight fever tight, more like jan claude van damn tight. And I looked and I looked. I must have tried on twenty pairs of dumb jeans, some even smaller than my little cousin jeffry who is about three and a half. Guess what. I looked like a rap star in all of them. I’m a little pissed off about the whole thing so don’t bother me for a couple of days.

your pal Ranny’s