Death

Haven't been posting for a while. There's a reason for this: I technically died.

Don't worry, I'm not a Frankenstein-type monster now. I'm still totally alive and my hog still totally works. Good for me.

Anyway, I'm gonna tell you about the after life. See, I was there for approximately six real world minutes after I ate a bag of heroin and then chased it down with a live shark that had a gun strapped to its face--I was in a bit of a dark spot.

But it turns out six real world minutes is exactly 32 hours in the after-life. Where did I go? Heaven or Hell? Read on til the end, dear reader, and you shall find out.

So I was 32 hours deep in the afterlife, sitting around chatting with my realtor, Sandy Koufax, and finishing up some escrow bullshit on my new crib, when suddenly, BOOM, adrenaline shot to the heart, and then I'm back in this shithole.

I went to Hell.

And I rocked the shit out of it.

Turns out everyone cool ever has gone to Hell. Literally. Anyone you've ever thought was cool in your life, they're in Hell, and it fucking rocks.

I'm heading back for a visit/VIP party being thrown by Dennis Hopper just as soon as I get my hands on another shark!

To all my bitchez,

Dear Bitchez,

I am writing to inform you:

The times we had together were short, yes. Too short? Absolutely not.

I just wanted to let every single one of you bitches know:

Every time I came, I meant it. I loved you, and then you left, and it was great.

In 25 years, when my 26 illegitimate children and their exponential number of equally illegitimate grandchildren sit around me outside some badass campfire and ask:

"Scott [I don't make them address me as 'Dr Dr Dr Scott' because they are almost family, kinda], you loved a lot of women. Would you change a thing?"

When they ask this, I will sit back, put my thumbs behind my lapels and stare out the window pensively, then, in a slow, deep voice, I will say:

"Never fucked a dolphin, I guess. That could have been cool."

Just got fleas

Turns out, they do like the pubic hair of juggernaut-record-selling-pseudo-christian rock-frontmen! Just shaved down! Now I'm hairless like a rutabaga!


-Scott "Alopecia" Stapp, out!

The Italians

Fuck 'em.

VHI

So I was on VHI earlier. I was a "talking head"... even though I was never a part of that dumbass band...


Anyway, LEMME BE FUCKIN CLEAR:

They paid me to be on that show.


That's right, my opinion is so important, they first off paid for it, and second, just told me what to say for more money.


That's right. The S.A.S. seal of approval is now for sale.


Serious. Gimme some money and I'll say your shit is sweet.

Thought you should have known this if you watched the VHI special. No way I'd ever say any band is better than Creed... well, except Scott Stapp.

woah!

Woah, guys. So about that last post:

Here's the thing:

My family and I have been hiding this situation for sometime now:

At birth, my mother was giving birth to two sons. One, Scott Alan Stapp, me, the other, Reginald Arnold Stapp, my retarded freak brother who is five minutes younger than me.

So anyway, that last post, that was Reginald, not me. We've been keeping him locked up in a high tower of the Scott Stapp mansion in a man-in-the-iron-mask-esque situation that was really working pretty well for everyone.

Don't worry though, we caught his ass.

Beat him.

Beat him real good.

He won't be doing that again anytime soon. I'll post a picture of Reginald so you get a sense of this dumbass.

POEM

dick cheese

fuck you

dick cheese

fuck you

i'm scott

I'm Scott

I'M SCOTT

UPDATE ON THE KID ROCK-SCOTT ALAN STAPP FEUD

no news yet. remain vigilant!

Depression (Beef with Kid Rock)

Sorry I haven't been kicking much ass lately, guys. I've been in a bit of a slump.

Don't worry, though. I can will myself out of it at anytime I want. Any time I...

Ah, who am I kidding? I'm just not the same ever since me and Kid got in that feud...

Oh, what? You didn't hear?

So Disney recently decided to pass on a line of super-sweet Scott Alan Stapp action figures--badass ones where you pressed a button and my boner got HUGE.

But for some reason they optioned Kid's line of toys that you press a button and it then proceeds to rap somewhat harmlessly and mostly inoffensively. Lame!

So me and Kid are in a little spat over it.

Will we ever be able to overcome our differences?

Having Sex with a Mexican't (Adventures with kid rock no.4)

I was having phone sex while getting a blowjob the other day when Kid called me. I patched him in and we had a three way with some chick on the phone while this college girl slobbered on my hog.

Pretty cool.

Anyway, this college chick was all like, "I'm going to a sex party later, you wanna come?"

And I was like, "Hell yeah, but I'm gonna cum."

"I want in, S.S.!" Kid yelled over the phone.

"Damn, Kid, you heard that?"

Hell yeah, muthafuck, now gimme directions to that sex party!"

***

Several hours passed and then it was time for the sex party. So we went to the sex party and there were only black chicks there which was odd because it was a wednesday and usually fridays are my black chick nights, but it was cool cuz Kid loves the black ones.

Anyway, then a mexican showed up and me and Kid were all like, "damn girl, lemme break off a piece of that!" and she was like, "uh uh, papi, you gotta pay"

so then we payed her and me and Kid eiffel towered her and she said "no!"

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Bitches and money

saw this girl at the library the other day (don't worry, I was just there to buy it and turn it into a party resort for bi-curious lesbians and myself + kid rock) and this girl was like, "Scott! What should I do with my life?"

I turned to her, dead serious: "make bitches and fuck money."

she looked confused. I threw on my sunglasses and fucking jetted.

day drunk

do itr.

UPDATE

This just in to the S.A.S. newsroom:

Herpes is contagious.

Also, it apparently lasts forever.

Financing a Porno (adventure with kid rock no. 3)

"PUT THE FUCKIN MONEY IN THE BAG, YOU FINE LOOKIN PIECE-UH-ASS!" Kid hollered at the old ass counter girl at McDonalds. We needed that money. We had a porno to shoot.

"GIVE US THE MONEY OR I CUT THIS BITCH FROM NECK TO DICK-SLOT!" I asserted, grabbing an old maid by the figurative balls, literally earlobes.

"HAHA, Nice one S.S.!" Kid chortled from behind his mask.

"God Dammit, Kid!" I chided, removing my own mask. "We weren't supposed to let anyone know who we are, dude!"

"Oh SHEAT!"

"wIlL yOu lEt Us gO NoW?" the old lady squawked in a voice as annoying as her typed dialogue.

I threw her through the plate-glass window for being uppity.

"DAYUM, S.S.! Niceeee"

"Hell yeah, I don't fuck around. You hear me? Scott Alan Stapp, social security number 260184602, DOESN'T fuck around!" I then paused to look directly into the security camera. Then Kid pulled the counter girl's spleen out of her eyeballs and she died.






















We are currently awaiting arraingment in San Mateo county for murder and grand larceny. Turns out those guys at McDonalds have almost as good lawyers as I do!

-Scott "please don't anally rape me while I'm in here guys, please I am rich! --Oh, shit! I mean, I'm... not rich? ARGH-GOD THE RAPE, IT HURTS!" A. Stapp, out!

At the grocery story (adventures with kid rock pt.2)

"Dude," Kid looked at me, brandishing a tub of vasoline. "You wanna bet me five bucks I can cum in this before security kicks us out?"

"Hell yeah," I nodded, knowing full well that Kid takes at least 55 minutes to jism.

...

35 minutes later...

"I'm... almost... there!" Kid shouted.

"Wow, dude! It's goin quick today!"

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Rock, Mr. Stapp?" A young, timid bagboy started.

"God DAMMIT!" I slapped him with my left hand, then again with my right hand. "You address us as MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp--I've got three doctorates for fuck'sake!"

"Uh, sorry sirs..."

"Sorry MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp!" I corrected him.

"Yes... well, be that as it may, we've had some, uh, complaints from the other customers... It seems that Mr... MR. Mr. Rock here, has been, uh, fucking a tube of vasoline for the better part of the last hour..."

"THAS GODDAM RIGH'!" Kid grunted. "OH SHIT!"

The bagboy looked confused. "It's okay," Kid said, handing him the used tub. "I came. Lets roll, S.S."

I slapped the bagboy again, with my ass, and we left.

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Scott Stapp's Advice for life (Adventures with Kid Rock pt.1)

So I was hanging out with my buddy Kid Rock the other day (you may remember him from that video of the two of us totally getting our hogs sucked), and he turned to me and said:

"S.S., what do you think is the meaning of life?"

"Good question, Kid," I nodded and thought about it for a moment. "I guess it's makin money and fuckin bitches?"

"Hmm," Kid took this in. "That's pretty good I guess."

"Sure is," I agreed.


Then we both came and the groupies got up and asked if we had any grape soda.

"What do you mean, 'grape soda'?" Kid asked. "I mean really, what the hell is grape soda? I've drank beer my entire life, even when I was a baby I was technically drinking beer, you know, based on how much Mrs. Rock was drinking at the time so that it came out her titty milk and all. But for real, what the hell is grape soda?"

The groupies looked confused.

"What I think Mr. Rock is trying to say here, girls, is this: please tell me you're above the age of eight."

They looked at each other and nodded.

"Good," I said. "Now, just go ahead and tell us your twenty-five and get on out of here. Oh, and leave your underwear, we collect them for a scrap book."

The girls left and me and Kid high-fived.

"Niceeee one, dude," he said.

"I know," I nodded. "I know."

Lament for my Boner (Poem #2)

So short lived
were you
So long though
so that's

cool

Sweet hog'o'mine,
what was so hard
about staying hard?

Was it that eight

ball of coke?

Maybe the heroine
from that movie
shooting that heroin
into my balls?


Cool name for a song, right?
Heroin Balls.

Nice.


*****

Ode to My Hog (Poem #1)

So I've been getting a lot of comments lately that say people are missing me writing sweet songs with sweet new lyrics because my old lyrics in Creed were like a sonic gold dick of poetry. That's pretty good, I think. So anyway, I've decided to start writing poems. FEaSt on ThIs:

Little dude, little dude,
oh wait, no
you're huge and awesome
excuse me,

Big dude, Big dude,
how'd you get so
Awesome?

Sometimes, I walk
to the store, or maybe
down the street
to the corner where that homeless dude
ralph lives.

I saw ralph fuck a hooker once.
It was freaky and I watched
from around the corner
in an alley
cranking you, you sweet
sweet meatbone.

mmm, meat bone.

sounds good, right?

Ladies?

So, back to the walking,
sometimes I do it

and sometimes I'll see a baby
in a stroller
and my baby-
phobia kicks in

OH GOD NOT
NOT-A-FUCKIN-GAIN
baby attack!

babes, flying everywhere.

Babes.

everywhere babes.


******

Cool poem, if I do say so myself. I think I rule just a little bit harder than before.

-Scott A. (poet-king) Stapp, out!

Bender...

Woah guys, sorry about that last post--I was a little drunk!

I didn't have sex with a pre-toddler, I just imagined I did.

-Scott "not-the child molester" Stapp, out!

NO WAY

just fucked a pre-scholar. Turns out, their vaginas are just as tight as a kindergärtners asshole!!!

And then I had to poop (Life Story, part 3)

To summarize so far:
My father was a billy-goat named Neil, and my biological mother was a white-tail dove name Aloysius, but I was born to a black woman named Teena. Also, I had super powers.

I went on to use these super powers to fight for the role of Alpha Male amongst my bird brothers and sisters. After ultimately killing my main rival, Harold, by pull his liver out through his asshole and shitting on it in a expressive display of badassery, I became Alpha Dog and then they made a movie about me with Justin Timberlake in it (I assume that movie was about me, right? amiright?).

**

After I killed the shit out of Harold I said, "fuck this, Neil, Aloysius, I'm leaving the nest," and then I did. But I was less than twenty feet from said nest when something fierce erupted in my bowels. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" I screamed as I clenched. CLENCH, YOU BASTARD! I thought. CLENCH!

So clench I did. I tried to return to the nest but Neil and Aloysius were being assholes and said they had no more children because my ravenous appetite had killed or eaten them all. I told them it was their fault for their genetics mixing in such an awesome way. They said that's not quite how genetics work and I said you'll be sorry you rat fucks and left. I shit in front of their doorstep, distressed with the poop, but comforted in the knowledge that I no longer had a family.

One tear might have come out...

... if I was weak like you.

So after I took a fat tearless dump on my parents doorstep, I sifted through the bones of my consumed brothers and sisters and said, "HAH! I AM Alpha Dog! I AM ALPHA DOG!"

Then I left, with plans to one day return and burn my parents to the fucking dirt.

Ghosts

I FUCK them.

Tornados

Is it the same as a torpedo?


The world will never know.


Mostly because I alone own this information. Seriously.

Back in the late 70s the US government was like YO SCOTT STAPP EVEN THOUGH YOU AINT MO' 'AN A CHIL' YEH, DO THIS FUCKIN' SHEEET AND FINE OUT DA DIFFRANCE 'TWEEN A TORNADO AN' UH TORPEDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. DO IT, FO YO GOV'MENT!

So I did what the scary AFRICAN-AMERICAN-negro told me. I asked for funding and he said that the "gov'ment" was being cheap at the moment.

I thought this rather niggardly of my black companion (blapanion) and told him such.

This did not go well.

More to come after my jaw gets unwired!

Fuck monkeys

Little hairy bastard man is a more accurate name than "monkey." I know this because earlier today one of these little hairy bastard men stole my drink from me. I'm down in mexico, chilling with fuckin Van Hagar and banging fourteen year olds [Editor's note: Scott, please remove this. It is illegal to have sex with fourteen year olds.{reply to editor: Fuck you, suit}]. So anyway, I'm fucking all these underage bitches, and drinking a mint julip that's 100% bourbon and fucking older than the girl who is slobberin on my hog, when I decide to put my drink down so I can finger this penguin's asshole. Then BAM, suddenly there's a fucking monkey stealing my drink and riding away on a racepig. And no, that's not a pig that's racist. It is a pig that used to race in someplace called Hondorous because apparently they is too poor for horse. horse race. But don't worry, I made that mistake about the racist pigs too. Oop!

Scott A. Stapp, monkeykiller, out!

BABY FIGHT!!! (Life story, part 2)

After I was birthed to my black surrogate mother, Teena, my white-tail dove mother, Aloysius, took me home to hang out with my thirty-seven bird brothers and forty-two billy goat sisters. They were all babies, too, for some reason. I knew what I had to do.

"LINE UP MOTHER FUCKER'S," I screamed at all the other babez. "WE SETTLE THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW! I'M ALPHA DOG! I'M ALPHA DOG!"

Naturally, most of the others immediately recognized that my shit was fucking hot and terrifyingly powerful, so they right away began to display deference and build monuments in my honor and shit. Pretty good for a baby, I'd say. But then what about the ones that tried to stand up to me? Oh. Ohahahahahahahaha. Hah.

Heh.

So I grabbed the first billy-goat sister who stood up for herself and I smashed her brain out with a rock. That's right, Baby Murder.

The second, one of my bird brothers, flew and me and tried to peck my eyes out. I cooked him on a stick and then taunted an orphan with the sweet succulent meat before ultimately discarding the uneaten meat in a landfill.

The third onslaught was a combo of bird-bird-goat-bird-goat.

It ended with a combo of rape into submission-shiv to the kidneys-assassinate like JFK-made give me fellatio to death-pull internal organs out through anus.


To summarize so far:
My father was a billy-goat named Neil, and my biological mother was a white-tail dove name Aloysius, but I was born to a black woman named Teena. Also, I had super powers.

I went on to use these super powers to fight for the role of Alpha Male amongst my bird brothers and sisters. After ultimately killing my main rival, Harold, by pull his liver out through his asshole and shitting on it in a expressive display of badassery, I became Alpha Dog and then they made a movie about me with Justin Timberlake in it (I assume that movie was about me, right? amiright?).

Home (Life Story Part 1)

I'm about to let it all go. Stick my dick out to dangle in the breeze, if you will. I'm going to tell you part one of my life story. I like to call it: "Home: Scott Alan Stapp's Early Years (part one of my life story)"

I was born on August 8th, 1973, to a billy-goat father (who was surprisingly absent of goatee) and a black woman named Teena. Teena was not my mother, however. Teena was just carrying my seed to awesome fruition because, little did you know, I was actually born with super powers and my tiny white-tail-dove mother's womb was too weak for my awesome man-seed (I think I'm using that term correctly??). That cool little child-fetus thingy would eventually grow into a child, then into a bully, and then, finally, into the fucking megastar that is me, Scott Alan Stapp--but we're not that far yet.

To summarize so far:
My father was a billy-goat named Neil, and my biological mother was a white-tail dove name Aloysius, but I was born to a black woman named Teena. Also, I had super powers.

Part 2 to come!

Scott A. Stapp, out!

Sometimes

I just wake up in the middle of the night to find my dick 5/7ths of the way into my pillow. Stuffing and feathers everywhere, rape-style. Seriously. Crazy shit my dick has gotten into after beating that murder rap.

Just learned what a prolapsed rectum is!

OH GOD, THE HORROR! THE HORROR!

Hippies

Fuck 'em. I pay ex-soviet spies thirty-five dollars an hour to hunt down hippies in their natural location and bag them up and then bring the sack to me so that I can empty the sack in a man-sized barrel, and then I shoot at them til murder with a shotgun and thus I am allowed to say, in every day conversation, "that's as easy as shooting hippies in a barrel" and fuck hippies.

Mombie 2

mom's dead again. oh well. shouldn't have tried to eat my brains. cunt bit my hand.

All that glitters is gold if I say it's fucking gold because I'm Scott Stapp and my opinions rule!

As you know, I've been a leading member of the punk rock community for some time. As a valued punk rock idol, my opinion is cool and you should just agree with basically anything I ever do.

So remember that band Creed I was talking about earlier, the one with no black guys in it? Well, I've decided Creed is the second best band in the world. The first being Scott Stapp. As we all know, Scott Stapp is the greatest.

Fuck it

I mean it this time. Black people, your goose is cooked! I don't mean that in a racist way. The opposite in fact. What I'm trying to say is:

I feel bad about slavery.

I think my great-great-grandasshole owned slaves. Considering he was related to my paternal side, and is my ancestor, he probably owned a lot, and was really, really kick ass at owning that many.

Like, he so definitely owned at least twice as many as his stupid neighbor, Mark Tremotti, and he was so totally meaner to them and everything.


So yeah, back to the topic... I feel bad about slavery. As a means of trying to be less of a dick, I baked you guys a goose.

One goose, for all of you hungry black people. God nows your pour enouf as it is. I feed you now. Okay?good.bye
!

SHIT JUST GOT

REAL. REAL GOD DAMN REAL.

As you know, I am a huge fucking supporter of polar bears, because fuck everything that isn't a polar bear or Scott Stapp.

Check out this video of this polar bear eating the fuck out of a monkey-llama:

POLAR BEAR V MONKEY-LLAMAMAMA


Fuck-yeah.

British People

Man, fuck those guys. Comin' over here, trying to talk all fancy-like and shit. fuck that.


fuck that.

Murder...

OH SHIT IT FINALLY HAPPENED. my dick got drunk and really screwed the pooch. He blacked out and accidentally killed a hooker... at least i hope it was an accident... oh dear god, the coat hanger! Oh shit, my Hog is looking at 25 to life/death penalty. i'm a qualified paralegal with 3 phd's but this shit is crazy! what happens if my dick goes to jail for life? he's a good lookin' meatbone, he won't last one minute penned up with those monstercocks!

the insanity!

-Scott A. Stapp, ashamed of his johnson

Feminism

Alright guys. It's time for me to get fucking real. I'm talking about feminism.


I think women are totally sweet. They love my kick-ass hog, and I love them for loving my junk. I think it is about time that women finally start to get paid the same amount as their dude counter-parts, and I think that women should be allowed to get abortions alllll the time! Women being allowed to vote is cool. I think its about time we have a female president!











JUST KIDDING!

fuck women.

-Scott (he-man womanhater) Alan Stapp

Easter...

So, was that Jesus guy, like, a zombie?

Why does anyone care about a zombie when I'm here, doing my sweet thing, being alive, and awesome, and, most importantly, being Scott Stapp?

-S

My favorite word for breasts:

"Bossom"

It is the funniest possible way to go.

Runners' up:

-"Titties"

-"Blank Checks"

-"Nipple Circuses"

-"Breasts"

-"Breastes"

-"Toddies"

-"Turtles on a half shell"

-"My Fourth Grade Teacher, Ms. Gladwell"

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

My Favorite Land Whale

My favorite Land Whale is the Ambulocetus. This little dude looks kind of like a rat... but it wasn't!

WHAAAT!?

THAT'S RIGHT: LAND WHALES were real.

cool.

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

PS, I'm sleeping inside of the body of a fat kid tonight. ;)

Bucket List, pt.2

Woah guys, you asked for it, so here's part two of my bucketlist!

-Kill a bullet*

-Disarm a hijacker with my hog*

-Meet Steve Carrell*

-Kill Leonardo DiCaprio

-Kill Steve Carrell

-Eat a pig, alive.

-Own a dog farm

-Own a human farm

-Grow a Vodka plant

-Genocide the Irish

-call a black labradoodle a "nigger"*

-Eat a child

-Prank Barack Obama

-Make a paper airplane

-Hide a dead stripper*

-Kill Jesus*

-Bang Marie Antoinette*

-Become a paraplegic

-Overcome my para-paralysis

-Become Santa Claus

-Neglect my duties as Santa Claus

-Raise a child

-Screw up a child irrevocably*

-Beat a white woman*

-Fight a Land-whale*

-Grow a beard made of potatoes

Part three to come later!

Conversation I Overheard at the McD's Other Night:

"Gimme the burgers! Gimme the burgers, now, or the bitch loses her head!"

-The Hamburglar with knife to womans face.

Just found a new pube! I'm gonna call her Charles!

Johnny Quest

Boy, that sure was a great cartoon.

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night to find myself power-squatting, naked, in my living room.

Why?!

-Scott A. Stapp

condomes?

What is this "condom" thing I keep hearing about? Do the rules of grammar require you add an "es" at the end for plurality? Why did that girl freak out when I was finishing inside her and said I didn't have one of these objects?

RE: My Chest Hair

Ladies,

Yes, it's real. Yes, it's awesome.

How to Guide #1: Internet Porn

So, many of you guys have been wondering how I go about my day to day actives, being kickass and such. Well, it is your lucky day, because this is the first in my series of how-to-be-like-Scott-Alan-Stapp-blogs.

Today, I'm covering the proper way to watch internet porn.

For those of you who don't know, the internet is more than just a place to read my blog. It is, in fact, filled with pornography. I know, this sounds crazzzy, but trust me, it is awesome. If you are into hot girls with big titties, the internet has got it. If you are into hot girls with even bigger titties, the internet has got it. If you are into grandmothers with medium to small size titties, well, I'm not into that, so I don't care.

Step one:
open up an internet browser. I like internet explorer, version 2.

Step two:
open up two more internet browsers and make each of them take up part of the screen.

Step three:
go to three different porn sites, or have a mix of 2 same porn sites and one different

step four:
take out your hog.

Step five:
pull up different porno videos; make sure one is the video of me and kid rock getting our D's S'd by some groupies!

Step six:
fuck it, i'm tired, figure out the rest.


-Scott

UPDATE

This just in:

F.B.I. does not stand for "female body inspector".... what?!

Bucket List

Lots of you guys have been asking for it, so here it is, Scott Alan Stapp's Bucket List!!! :

-punch a cat to the moon*

-punch a dog to hell

-bang more models*

-bang Jessica Alba

-bang Mischa Barton*

-fart on something til it dies

-get 1,000,000 blow jobs

-have sex on a lifeboat while people drown around me*

-get autotune installed in my throat box

-ride in the washing machine

-kill a man with only my thumbs

-take a deuce on the head of oliver cromwell

-get a fourth doctorate

-write a bestselling book of poetry about my hog

-write a bestselling book of poetry about kid rock's hog--don't judge, he's got a rockin hog.

-kill steve martin

-become james bond

-bang every bond girl ever

-bang lisa loeb

-bang my mom's friend susie, before she died

-make a corpse come back to life to S my D, then kill it again

-kill mick jagger

-write the song "Light my Fire"*

-eat a salad off a naked lady* And by salad, I mean steak. And by naked lady, I mean exactly that.

-Buy the town of Laredo, Tx, and re-name it Scott-Alan-Stappville and then genocide everyone in town.

-Commit three more acts of genocide

-Re-write that crappy boring movie Citizen Kane, and make my hog the main character.

-Grow a mustache on my balls*

-bang that chick from Spider-man with the weird teeth*

-tell Sarah Jessica Parker "you ain't hot"

-fight a troll*

-eat a troll

-fight a lion

-eat a lion*

-invent the synthesizer*




woah, that's just part of my list! More later!!

Mombie

Turns out my mom was dead, after all. She's just a zombie now. Oops!

White People

Dudes and dudettes!!! Check out this funny video of some kids dying!




Your welcome,
Scott Alan Stapp

Taco pt.3

This is a picture of the taco I ate. Just in case you were wondering!

TACO pt.2

Just ate a taco.

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

TACO

Bout to eat a taco. Bitchin'.

-Scott "Juarez" Stapp

Black People

Just found this out, our president is a black guy!

I didn't know this, because I just vote for myself as a write-in every year. Everyone who is not Scott Alan Stapp is only allowed to vote every four years; but me, Scott Alan Stapp, I'm allowed to vote yearly, just so that you dudes get the benefit of my sweet political analysis.

This just in:
The democratic and republican fields are week. Scott Stapp is the clear choice!


Woah, good news for me!

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Woah...

Woah, dudes, just came down of a crazzzzzzzzzzzy crystal meth high.

I am DEFINITELY doing that drug again!

Also, turns out my Mom's not dead anymore, bitchin'!

-S.A.S., triple PhD, out!

shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiT!

THIS IS CRAZY I AM FORTY FIVE FEET TALL AND EVERYTHING IS SO BRIGHT. THIS DUDE OVER HERE LOOKING AT ME LIKE I'M CRAZY AND AWESOME. I AM CRAZY AWESOME.

I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.
I AM CRAZY AWESOME.

At a party in ...

Hey guys,

Just left sxsw in Austin, Texas. Man, I sure had an okay time. You guys who live there probably thought it was cool because you got free alcohol and music, but that stuff actually scucks to me because people usually pay me money to drink alcohol and play music. So I'm still better than everyone, but it was nice to take a break from being super-kickass and getting money all the time.

Not really; I actually mean the opposite of that. Whatever.

Anyway, just at this party in some crazy rich European country where poor people are only allowed in to draw us rich, cool dudes around in carriages like some sort poor race of dirty, crazy horse-dudes. I'm just standing around at the open bar, blogging on my smartphone! Woah!

...

...

Woah, guys! This guy just offered me some new party drug called crystal meth... Think I should try it? I sure do!

We'll see how this goes!

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

My third doctorate,

For those of you guys that don't know, I'm actually an avid scientist. I've proven evolution wrong six times! Before today, I was only the semi-proud owner of two doctorates (Un. Phnx & Un. Devry, respectively,) but now, I'm going to get an honory P-FUD (as it is pronounced in the science world) from a nigerian prince. for only one-hudred lire!

Nice!

-Scott Stapp, super scientist, out!

A Perfect Day for Scott Stapp

My perfect day would consist of the following:

-Getting an on-camera bj from some groupies while Kid Rock enjoys the same*

-Have all other dudes on the planet die, so that way everyone finally realizes that I'm totally the best looking dude ever and all other dudes are inferior.

-Punch a cat to the moon*

-Star in a porno with six versions of myself wankin' it on a loaf of cornbread*

-Write to that Mumia Abu-Jamal and say: "Woah, dude, Scott Stapp here, being super-sweet, as always, just wanted to let you know that you shouldn't have killed those cops because all cops LOVE Creed, my super-cool band, and have you heard our new album? It's coming out in two months? Well, see ya!"


NOTE: * indicates things whose ass I have already totally kicked.


-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Healthcare, what? Who's that guy, and why does anybody care about him when I'm here, doing my thing, being awesome?

Fuck that guy. He's not me. I bang models and sang songs in both Cread and Scott Stapp. Healthcare is probably just some drunk redneck.

-Supercool Scott A. Stapp, out!

...

Woah guys, my mom just died.

Razzles... A hope for tomorrow?

Just getting a little existential here, but one of my friends just told me about this candy called Razzles. That wonka guy makes 'em, apparently... Anyway, apparently its a candy first, then a gum! Woah!

Woah!

So that got me to thinking, if a candy can change so fundamentally as to be come an entirely new form, a gum, then maybe We can, too. And by "We" I mean humanity. Be the change that skinny little brown man who was made of salt wanted in the world.

Sorry to get deep, guys.

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Oops!

Hey Guys! Scott Alan Stapp here, just woke up--a bit hungover!

Anyway, some bad shit went down last night... I got drunk!

Once, I contemplated killing myself while drunk... You can read more about it on wikipedia--whatever that is!

Anyway, I was writing this new song early and I've decided to call it: "The Stevie Wonder Experience: aka, my Johnston, the Blind Pig"

I know most people spell it "Johnson" and don't include the "T", but most people aren't Scott Alan Stapp.

Well, see you guys later!

-Scott A. Stapp, out!

Hey Guys!!!

Hey, everyone! It's me, I finally got one of these computer machines. Call me old fashioned, but I fear technology because that movie the Terminator was so convincing! Robots are scaryyy!!!

Anyway, I'll be updating my blog alllll the time, so check in with me! I love exclamation points, oh yes I do!

Take care, everyone!

-Scott A. Stapp, out!