Peace, Dude.

It ain't easy being Kerby. But someone's got to be able to bring clarity to this chaotic world. Nobody has time to look around and see the true value or natural order of things. They're all too busy fixing problems created by their own leaders. Everybody's always fighting to get to the top but me, I just want to smoke and chill. And I think everyone else should just smoke and chill as well. If everyone weren't always uptight and arguing over little things, we could finally give peace a chance. The way John Lennon wanted, not Vladimir Lenin or anyone else like him who thinks they know how the world should be run. Put your efforts into technology. Get rid of the money. Get rid of the government. Implement world peace. Let technology distribute the goods and necessities of life and survival. If we work together, we can find a way to harness the Earth's full power and potential. Maybe then we'll be set for space exploration. I guess it wouldn't hurt to smoke a few spliffs here and there either. Look, all I'm saying is give peace a chance. Yes I was high when I wrote this, 'cause I don't give a fuck if you don't like my shit. It's only a northern song. Just remember that.

Now here's some cool pictures I did with a little help form my friend Photoshop, or as I like to call him, Shoop Dawg. The first one is my new "Herb Kerby" logo I've recently completed. You better not take my logo 'cause that shit's patented and I'll sue you. The other pictures are some other Shoops of me getting out of my Lambo C. after hot-boxing it and driving around the galaxy. Yeah, my car can take flight. It's got anti-gravity mods, so what? Don't ask me how I made it or how it works for that matter. I just fly around getting high with the vaporizer air-conditioning that circulates vaporized marijuana throughout the interior of my car. 400 a zip, that's what I'm on. Peace, dude.

But we've got the biggest balls of them all...

It was 2010. Then all of a sudden, it turned 2011. I was on the dance floor, dancin' on all these rave girls. I looked around and saw everyone else grindin' on each other listening to the beat and the bass as it takes us on an incredible journey. A spectrum of colors embraced the crowd of spectators. It smelled a bit like throw up from all those ravers who took it just a bit too far. My body was moving to the beat until sweat poured over my face. I had to splash my water over my face and chest and take a breath to cool down. The music was compiled and brought to my ears by an artist who calls himself Girl Talk. I was drugged much like how everyone else was. Can you guess what I took before seeing Girl Talk at Milwaukee's Rave on New Years 2011? I'll give you a hint, I was flippin'! Candy flipin' that is. If you don't know what that is well look it up, I don't want to be your personal Urban Dictionary, shit. And if your wondering how I felt, the answer is fan-motherfucking-tastic! I can't believe people narrow their options down to just one drug on new years eve; alcohol. Yeah, let's get drunk! No thanks, I'm good with all these hallucinogens I just ate! They make me feel great! And smart! And trippin' balls! And I had to go to work the next day and I felt just fine! I can only imagine how many people just felt like total shit on new years day... "Oh, I shouldn't have drinken all those jager-bombs with vodka chasers last night." Is what they might say "I should've just took a bunch of hard drugs like acid or ecstasy like The Herb Kerby did, maybe then I wouldn't have called in sick to work from being so hungover." I bet that's what you said on new years day...
I had special plans for that night. I planned well in advance to make sure I had one hell of a night on new years 2011. Drugs, check. Tickets, check. Cash, check. Phone, check. Marijuana, wait where is my weed? Oh shit, I forgot to bring joints and I'm already through the doors! Good thing my buddy came through in that department! You should have seen the great sigh of relieve I exhaled when I found out my good friend sneaked three spliffs into the club and then you should have seen the joyous face I had once I inhaled those spliffs. What a good night. I found myself dancing with a kind of f'ugly chick earlier in the night and my penis that was being dry rubbed through my pants was not enjoying the company. I later found a much more exquisite girl to dance with however, the dance was quite brief and I found myself dancing with no one at all after that. I can blame no one but myself. Nasty habits and awkward mishaps in the past have left me on the dance floor without a dance partner for a majority of the night. I didn't let it get me down, especially with all those chemicals I had running through my head. Maybe the next dance I go to, I'll have a hot little number to strut my stuff against. The question is, can that little lady handle this big brain of mine. Not to mention my other big brain I got in my pants. 'Cause I'm upper, upper class high society. God's gift to ballroom notoriety. And I always fill my ballroom, the event is never small. The social papers say I've got the biggest balls of all...

Now here's some photographs, drawings, and shoopings to kick off the 2011 new year!