Unusual.

Some assorted, incomplete ramblings from my youth. To the tune of "Aerials" by System of a Down. (Timmy is or was a rotund friend of mine from my youth.) "Aerials, Timmy's wide. When your arteries clog you will die. Aerials, chicken's fried, have another slice of apple pie." To the tune of "F*ck the Police" by NWA. It was about my childhood friend Ryan, who happens to be of Polish and other unknown genetic origins. "F*ck this k*ke coming straight out of Israel, puts sweet and sour sauce in his cereal. He rocks a star of David and not a cross,

his grandparents narrowly escaped the Holocaust."

There's also an incomplete rap I wrote for math class. It was the "FOIL Rap." First, outer, inner last. You crumble up the foil and you throw it in the trash. When you multiply, you can't deny, that these numbers are oh-so-fly. When you do the inner, you come out the winner. It's like those numbers are on blood thinners. -END- Anointed, indeed.