So, some of you might be like, what is the deal with the title. Happy Hardon Harry. Who is that? Well to all you young people in the world of the Angry Happy Arab, it's the main character that Christan Slater played in "Pump Up the Volume." Awesome fucking movie. A shy kid by day, a pirate disc jockey by night. Saying what's on his mind to free the people in a small Suburban Arizona neighborhood.

Yeahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! I say it again "Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Hold on people....I just got to the scene where Samantha Mathis takes her shirt off. Amazing tits. Count to 10 for me ladies and gents, it's all I really need. (Sorry ladies.) Ok, done. Back to my point. HHH is a representation of what we should be saying to the world.

The politics today, it feels like we never left high school right? Always trying to figure out what is next in our life. The world still has it's camps. Democrats on the stairs, Republicans hanging out by the lockers. The Independents smoking joints in the bathroom stall. So which camp is the voice of the people? We are all worried, we are all in pain. But can't getting any fucking worse, cause it only gets better, right? Maybe I am just spouting some shit, but maybe I'm making sense to someone out there.

I came home today and got things done in my everyday life. I paid my bills and made sure the rent was in. I wrote, just cause I need to do it, even if it uninspired. Practice. But, I still have a emptiness in my stomach. Not sure what that is. Always hungry, always want more. But that is a good thing right? We should all want to aspire to something. That thought inspires me. I love the Republican swinging there shit out there, because they want. I love the Democrat for that too, because they want. I love the crack hustler on the Brooklyn Street corner, cause they want. Why aren't artists that way? They want, but it's a different type of want isn't? The ones that make it, other artists go and say," oh, they're commercial. Not keeping it real" What the fuck does that mean?!?!? Hustle baby. You paint, figure a way to sell that shit. You sing, figure away to have someone give you a dollar to hear you sing. You act, shit, figure away to be a star. But here is the thing...don't fucking suck! Cause then you're wasting our mother fucking time. HAH!!!!!!!! Ok...come on baby, come on baby ringing in my ear like Saigon's new track. Love life, love death, love it all.