User:TheReturnOfJazz
“In times such as these, a great diaspora of individuals deem it necessary to speak on matter of which they have no knowledge or care in, as though their words held actual merit or weight. Yet, when they do open their mouths, all that can be heard is a defeating and worthless silence. The motherfuckers act like they forgot about Dre.”
– Marshalious Mathernious
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This user owns a Hate Hate Hat. It's presumed that they hate a lot of things. |
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passersbye were amazed byt the unusually large amounts of blood. passersbye were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. passersbye were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. |
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This user really thinks that Jack Black is FUCKIN' AWESOME! |
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This user does not like Kites
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TheReturnOfJazz began back in the 1480s when then governor of Lazytown, Ben Franklin, declared "Hey, I'm mother fucking Ben Franklin, and I am sick and tired of this country psychedelic rapabilly shit playing on the radio. If I hear one more Coldplay song / Green Giant jingle, I'll rip out my testicles and staple them to yours."
After briefly dying of a coma, old Franklin decided that SOMETHING had to be done.
That's when jazz was invented. It was a new music. Classy enough to make people think you were into intellectual shit like dadaism or perhaps even chorss (chess but with your chode) but it was also erratic enough to get you laid, at least by my excessively low standards of "laid"
(This is where I'd upload a totally badass Photoshop of my grandmother giving Gorbachev a hand job but I'm way too lazy for that and I don't even know who Gorbachev is. My dad saw him on some Netflix special and yelled a lot. I think he might be a chef. Either way I'm not uploading anything.)
Jazz reflected a new era when everything was new, like a newborn who stared in wide-eyed wonder and also shit itself.
That shit, my friends was the fucking American dream. White picket fence, two kids, exponentially growing numbers of pets, apple pie, all of it was the metaphorical shit plopping a wet one out the moist cheeks of jazz.
Ted Nugent tried to get in on it, but he wasn't cool enough. Beet poets tried to get in on it, but beets are gross.
Miles Davis, there's a jazz master to remember. When he'd tickle those ivories, the piano would wet itself with laughter. Soon he found himself buying diapers daily for the piano. The man was a legend, but he died a bankrupt man, because diapers for pianos are big expensive.
Not cool.
But you know what is? Jazz.
I knew this guy once. Went by MrTheJazz. I once asked why he stuck a random The in the middle of his name. "Cebause", he'd say. And ride off into the sunset on his power wheel. That man was a legend, or perhaps it was the LCD. All I know is that people shouldn't ingest crushed up TV monitors.
Here, have a red link, you deserve it.
Here have a link to my Sandbox Nobody deserves this but too bad. I blame George Foreman Soros.