May 29
monkey porn is great

Jesus H. Christ, Nicholas, will you stop picking at that scab?! -my mother

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news update:

It has occurred to me that my phone bill is extreme-a-lay large, and I think I know who the culprit is.

 

11:49 pm, Eastern Standard Time

(Jesus what's with this HTML, christa.)

So hey hey y'all, your Man, your Hero, your REAL Pop Icon (not that brown hack) is in the house to rock the world of Loafe.com like it ain't never seen before. Succa is here, he got it bad for Loafe.com, and he ain't lookin' for no cure.

As usual, I will use this space to discuss the following issues:

  1. My greatness
  2. Why people don't worship Me like they should
  3. Why being a famous web-celeb like myself isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Let's cut through all the razzmatazz and get right to the point. I am a fucking hero. Here's proof, in a conversation I had with Christa (the proprietor of this "www home page" you're looking at):

Me: I am a fucking hero.
Christa: I know! I know!
Me: You had better recognise, y'all.

Now, you might just think I'm doing an imitation of other pop heroes like Kid Rock the "American Badass" (new album tomorrow! ROCK! please shoot me.) or uh, like, Liberace or something, but the people get what the people want, and what the people want is the man from the north side of town, Nicholas Taylor.

Now, as for this issue of people not worshipping me like they should, allow me to say this: people really don't know what they want. The world is a fickle audience, an MTV-Generation on a global scale, flippin' channels and trend-surfing like nobody's bidness. Nobody has any longevity anymore. Stars are made, admired, and forgotten, like fireworks exploding in the distance. But I'm here to stay. I ain't no one-hit wonder. I'm guaranteed for at LEAST somewhere in the range of 4-6 hits before my body caves in under its own rockstar-drug-related weaknesses. Mark that day on your calendar, folks...'twill be a sad one indeed.

Before I continue, let me point out how damned sexy Alyssa Milano is. Hot damn. Which reminds me! Send Alyssa some e-mail! Get her to check out my website!

Anyway, let me speak about the overrated experience that is being a goddamned hero to the unwashed masses. When my day's work pleasing and palm-greasing is all finished, I usually collapse onto the couch and dream about filthy, disgusting things that often involve Alyssa Milano, Christa, and a case of Wunderbars. So, as you can imagine, this becomes quite taxing after a while, and I often fall back on typical rockstar staples like crack, booze, barbituates, and huffing automotive engine fluids. Sigh.

Well, whatever. I'm here until Christa gets off her ass and updates her own site. Woo!

 

I use this box for lists. christa's cafe is lists! sweet magical tasty lists! Unfortunately, "christa's cafe", as it's so jovially called, will be known as the "Succa Shop of Sin" for the time being.

For every list, there is an anti-list. I actually don't know what that means.
but who really cares? not me! and definitely not you! because, you're all a bunch of unwashed freaks who's only break from the empty glare of the computer monitor is to polish your set of Magic: The Gathering commemorative shotglasses!

sexiest people in the world:

Now we're gonna take a little trip back to a magical time known as 1994:

Me: Hey baby, how about we go get a pizza and then go home and fuck?
Her: You're a disgusting pig.
Me: What, you don't like pizza?

 

email christa@loafe.com