The site your mother warned you about.

Story time

2007-01-31T00:28:00.000-05:00

This was a story that I wrote in class about the possibility of cloning animals and how it just might catch on. Hope you enjoy.

Mrs. Bell quickly looked from one side to the other side of her Barkaloungerchair. Her soaps had ended, and Cecil, her pure Longhaired Himalayan cat, had not yet appeared for her usual nap along side her owner. Mrs. Bell clicked her tongue, hoping that the cat would realize what time it was and come scampering in the living room. "Now where could that cat be?" Mrs. Bell thought. She checked Cecil's usual hiding places, under the king sized bed, on blankets in the linen closet, and on the window cill that faced the sun. Cecil must have found somewhere else to lounge around. One place in particular popped into Mrs. Bell's head. The shoe closet must be where Cecil is hiding. She moved as fast as a senior citizen could, hoping to still surprise Cecil with a quick grab and a kiss. As soon as the sliding door opened, Mrs. Bell's jaw dropped. In a heap of cream colored fur, Cecil was in the final stages of rigimortis in the corner of the closet. Mrs. Bell put her hand over her mouth and said in a cal voice, "oh dear." Without even thinking, Mrs. Bell went to the phone and pushed the button for the first person on the speed dial. She waited for someone to pick up. "Hello, Dr. O' Brien? Yes, its me, Helen Bell. Yes...it's happened again. You'll? You'll send me over a new one tomorrow? Excellent! Could you put that on my account? Great, thank you so much. Mrs. Bell hung up the phone and got a plastic bag and a dustpan to go and dispose of Cecil number 46.

Holy Shit I Updated.

2006-09-25T02:01:00.000-04:00

Holy shit indeed. Here is some writing I did for class, let me know what you think because it might be the only thing posted here for a while, later.

What a long friggen day. Thank God I finally get to go home. I thought to myself as I walked back from the bus station. It was like a twenty minute walk, and after a double shift, it seemed like I would never make it back. I need a car or a moped or something, this is getting to be a pain in the ass. Maybe if Dave actually paid his half of the rent, I could afford one. Slowly I walked up the stairs of the apartment building, loathing every over-priced step there is to take. Working in that warehouse is killing me. I thought to myself. Time to get some sleep. Maybe I’ll look for a new job tomorrow....nah, too much work. At the top of the stairs, I smack my left pocket and hear that familiar jingle of the keys and stick my hand in to get them. Twist knob to the left, turn it right and kick hard. The door needing some work was an understatement. The sea foam colored paint had been cracking and peeling for more years then I have been alive. Even the numbers on the door were feeling the effects of father time. I gotta complain to Tim again about this shit. Tim Grossman was my landlord, but I preferred to call him the slum lord or gross fat guy when he wasn’t around. Grossman was a single, fat, balding guy who got this house after his mom died, or that’s what he told us anyways. In the two years that I’ve been here, I have never seen him wear anything but sweat pants, a wife beater and grungy flip flops. He doesn’t do much besides jack up the rent, drink cheap vodka like water, and sleep. Dave and I rented the upstairs from him, and he lives in the basement. Stupid fat fuck never does anything for us. I thought. The doorknob was almost completely covered in rust. The warped door opened with a high pitched creak and revealed the shoe box sized living room. That pungent smell of moldy cheese hit my nostrils just as it always does when I work a double shift. I knew I should have thrown out those hotdogs....ah well, I’ll get to it later. I fling the keys onto the seat of the busted recliner and walk a straight, short line to the bedroom, careful not to kick over half drank beer bottles or stacks of pizza boxes. I had no idea where Dave was, and I seemed not to care at all; maybe it will be silent tonight for once. If I didn’t see his massive, cylinder shaped body slouched in the chair, there was a good chance he wasn’t home or was passed out. I get to my room, turn on the light, shut the door, and strip down to my boxers, dropping all of my sweat stained clothes on the shag brown carpet.. Band posters covered my walls, and every bookshelf was occupied with cans and junk rather then any reading material. I flexed in front of my mirrorlike I did every night, wishing that I looked like those guys in muscle magazines, all buff and tan. My skin needs to get some more sun, I look like a god damned ghost. With the last of my energy, I began the short climb up to my perch on the top bunk, but right before I did, I noticed my computer screen was on. This thing was my entire life. I saved for years to buy all the parts and built it completely by myself. My desk is right under my bed, so no one can really use it without me knowing. Since it’s only Dave and I up here, and I threatened Dave many times before, I’m not too concerned about anyone using it. I don’t even let Dave touch it, and we’ve been friends since grade school. I pushed the off button, turning the screen blank but leaving the tower on. Now it was bed time. With my body completely under the jet black comforter, I rolled towards the edge of the bed and looked over at the clock. It read two-fifty-something A.M, which sounded about right. My eyes shut tightly and my muscles relaxed, the day was over and done with. A bright light glowed from under me; my computer screen was on. I swore I turned that thing off. Son of a bitch, I really don’t want to get back down, but I can’t sleep with it on. Suddenly, the screen turns off and turns back on. What the hell? I throw off the covers and jump down, hitting the ground hard enough for my ankles to send a sharp pain up my back. I let out a sharp yelp and turn to check on my ailing computer. ‘NO’ was typed on the screen in big black letters. The rest of the screen was white, like someone had just started to type something then walked away. Dave was the first person I thought of as the culprit as I sat down in the leather chair. Can’t that fat asshole leave any of my shit alone? God dammit he sucks at life. I put on my jeans, just as if I was getting ready to go to work again. Just as I was going to touch the mouse, the colossal ‘no’ vanished and new text took it’s place. ‘You shouldn’t say those kinds of things about people’ was what I read. My hand flew back behind my head like I had just touched a hot stove. Confusion and surprise struck simultaneously. "What the f-" was all I got out before the screen changed yet again. ‘Don’t finish that sentence’ appeared. Sticky fear sweat made its presence known on my back, trying to compensate for my racing heartbeat. I better be making this up I thought. The message on the screen blinked off and reappeared with a new one. ‘Hi.’ was written. The words took up the screen from top to bottom. Hi? Who the hell is doing this to me? I must be dreaming or something, I thought of some explanation for what was going on. ‘Your awake, Joseph’. "Ummmm.." I spoke out loud. "Dave, can you get your fat ass out here before I find you and kill you?" This is stupid, he knows how tired I am, Jesus, just let me sleep for once! I looked around my room for him in an attempt to find Dave, but I knew I would have seen that 300 pound kid right when I walked in. ‘It’s not Dave.’ The text was really starting to freak me out now. That fat ass is going to get it when I find him. I held the power button on the tower. Maybe I can just restart it. I thought. I held the button for a few seconds, and nothing happened. "Dave, you FAT FUCK"! I yelled. "You FUCKING broke my computer!" No sound was heard. Again the text read out something new. ‘Don’t be mean to Dave, that bothers me.’ Is this thing reading my fucking mind??? No....it couldn’t. Wake up Joey, this is a nightmare, that’s all. "I’m here to help you.’ the text read. I wheeled the chair back, not even knowing what to think besides, wake up. I started to hit the keys in a furious attempt to stop who or what had control over my screen. ‘That’s not going to work.’ I stopped hitting the keys and took a deep breath. "O.K. fine, what will make it work so you can stop fucking with my computer? I was still convinced that Dave was somehow behind all of this. The screen went blank for a few seconds, then produced an answer that was not to my liking at all. "You’re going to shut up, stay seated, and read everything’. I squinted hard, I thought I was reading this wrong. ‘You’re not exactly perfect, now are you Joseph?’ I scoffed, "This is bullshit, you can’t do anything to me." My voice started to crack. "Whoever or whatever you are, I’m getting too tired to play along, so lets get this over with and just tell me what you want so I can go to bed."
‘So you don’t want to cooperate with me?’ Another few lines showed up. ‘Fine, let me show you what I can do to you, and maybe you’ll change your mind, Joseph.’ All of a sudden, e-mail account popped up. Scrolling across the bottom of the screen, it said to turn on the speakers. I was scared not to do it, so I clicked on the speakers to about a quarter of the way up.
"That’s better," said a slow, deep voice. "So, you’re in a relationship it seems." I rubbed my eyes, still wondering if this is a dream or some cruel prank.
"Yeah I am," I replied. "Why?" The voice chuckled and then spoke.
"Not anymore." The voice said. "Unless you work with me and do what I say." I wasn’t going to take anymore of this bullshit.
"Screw you, I’m not doing anything, get the FUCK off of my computer before I find out who you are and snap you’re little fucking neck!"
"Someone is in a bad mood it seems." The voice was cool and confident. "Where is all of this anger coming from?"
"Shut up!" I yelled. "Shut your god damned face or whatever the hell you talk out of, you fuck!" I wheeled back my chair and stood up and turned to walk out, not even caring about any consequences.
"Susan James, huh?" The voice questioned, not losing its composure while stopping me dead in my tracks and do a 180 back to the screen.
"What?" I sat back down.
"Girlfriend of yours?"
"Yeah...So?" I questioned. Her picture showed up on the screen; I must have had a million of us and everywhere we went together. She had long legs, a beautiful smile, and blonde hair. She was the love of my life and I could not ask for anything more.
Been together....2 years now. Wow Joseph, if I were her and knew what I know, I would have dumped your sorry ass a long time ago. I really don’t think that you are any where near worth of someone of that caliber. Wait, I’ll just let her go for you, no need to thank me."A puzzled look came over my face. The voice sighed heavily; I must have been missing something.
"I sent her a message about you finding someone else, so wave bye-bye to your cute little girl Susie." The voice concluded with a deep, throaty laugh.
"You’re a liar, just a big... fucking..... liar." I whispered though gritted teeth. "You don’t have my password, I never gave that to anyone.... you’re just messing with me, right?"
"Apparently, you still don’t get it. I know everything about you, Joseph. I know your name, all of your passwords, interests, and all the sites you visit, even the ones when you’re feeling, how do you say, ‘a little bit lonely.’ I could not believe what I was hearing.
Trying to make sense out of all of this, I questioned the voice. "What?" How....why are you doing this to me? What the fuck did I ever do to you man?" There was a pause for a few seconds which felt more like hours. I sat there in silence, waiting for some sort of response. There was nothing. In frustration, I turned off the speakers. A mili-second later, the screen turned white again and text started to appear once more. It was all in caps, ‘NEVER DO THAT!’ More text appeared. ‘YOU’RE NOT IN CONTROL HERE JOEY, I AM.’
Starting to get annoyed, I shot back at the computer."You can’t tell me what to do, I own you, it’s not the other way around, guy. Remember when I spent thousands of dollars to buy this computer? Yeah, that means I OWN YOU!" I had no idea where this new found confidence was coming from, or why the hell I was yelling at my computer, but I hope that there was more on its way. My mind clicked back and searched feverishly for ways out of Susan getting that message. I’ll call Susan, yeah, tell her that this is all a big mistake and someone stole my password. Yeah...she’ll believe that...I think. Just as I picked up my cell phone from off the shelf, I noticed the text on the screen change out of the corner of my eye. ‘I don’t think so, Joseph’ I kept reading. ‘I forgot to mention, I knew you would try and get in contact with her, so I told her some things only you would know, like that first date at the movies. I told her it was only a ploy to get into her pants. But nice try....Guy.’ I dropped the phone. I knew now that there was no way she was going to believe anything I was going to say now.
"WHAT?!?" I covered my eyes and mouth with my hands. "Wake up Joey, just wake up." I needed to force myself out of this dream.
‘You wish it could be that easy.’ The words were mocking me, I hate it when anything, even something like text mocks me. He knew I was getting pissed off and it was only getting worse.
"Getting a little bit TESTY, are we?" The message scrolled across the screen over and over again. My blood began to boil and the veins in my forehead were pulsing along with the heavy beating of my heart.
A heavy pounding noise directed my attention to the apartment door. Who the fuck is banging on the door at 3am? Dave? I turned back to the all-knowing text for some sort of an answer.
‘Don’t answer the door, just sit back down.’
"But...but who.." The banging got louder until I heard that familiar creak of the door open. He must have let himself in with his set of keys.
"Where the fuck are you?! Hello? You...you fucking loud ass kids!, I’m trying to fucking sleep here, don’t you knowwwwwhat" He began to slur. It was Grossman, and he sounded a little pissed off to say the least. His thundering footsteps came closer and he stumbled into my room and saw me. I just looked at him, afraid of what the computer would do to me if I told him what was going on. Even if he did believe me, there was nothing his drunk ass could do to help. I looked at the screen for any sort of advice while Grossman went off on me for waking him up. Of course, there was something on the screen. ‘Joseph, leave Mr. Grossman to talk. Turn on the speakers, but don’t go too far now, or I’ll know. Now get out of there.’ I didn’t have to be asked twice. A thought struck my mind. How the hell am I going to get Grossman to stay in here? Wait....I got something. I glanced at the screen. ‘That’s using your mind Joseph.’
"I know this sounds strange, but don’t yell, just sit down and listen, Tim. I tried to get him to listen to me. "I’ll pay you a hundred bucks if you just sit down and listen to what the computer says for five minutes, please." I knew he couldn’t give up an easy opportunity to get money.
"Fine, but if you don’t pay me.." I reached in my back pocket and threw my wallet at his hairy chest.
"Consider that collateral." I said. Tim sat down in front of the screen, not looking once at what it had to say
"Jesus Christ, what’s the matter with you, Joe?" Before I could even answer the fat guy’s question, I turned on the speakers and got out of there. My leg was almost cut off as I slammed the door right behind me. I couldn’t just leave him in there, knowing what that thing was capable of. I sure as hell didn’t want to go back in either, so I leaned my ear up against the door, straining to hear what the hell was going on. Everything sounded muffled, but there was some sort of a conversation going on, Grossman’s voice getting louder as it progressed. Anything could be going on in there right now, I could only wonder what kind of secret’s he had that were about to be uncovered. About two minutes of Grossman talking with whatever was in my computer, his voice was finally loud enough to be audible. "WHAT, NO!" He was screaming now. "I DIDN’T KILL HER.....SHE....SHE FELL!" Suddenly, the door ripped open and out shot Grossman, heading straight for the door and down the stairs. I didn’t even attempt to ask him what the fuck he was doing; there was no way I’m getting my body in the way of that fat train. Grossman had just about made it to the door when a beer bottle had happened to make its way under one of his fat feet. His fall was almost like slow motion, one painful twist and trip after another. He flew right out of the door, his face hitting the stairs with a brutal crunch. It sounded like someone had just threw a piano off a building. I ran over, and saw his broken, fat body laying lifeless at the bottom of the stairs. I wanted to help, but just then I heard that heavy voice again.
"Get over here now, Joseph." I turned my head slowly. "Joooooooooooooooseph, get baaaaaaaaaaaaaacccccckkkkkk heeeeeerrrrreeee." The voice was calling to me. Slowly I walked back to my room, the image of Grossman’s body burned into the back of my brain. I sat back down and opened my mouth to ask what the hell had just happened. ‘He was a bad mad, he deserved what he got. Timothy Grossman was a drunk and a murderer, he killed his own mother to get this house. Don’t be sad Joseph, what’s done is done.’ I was freaking out inside of my head, sweat was dripping down into my eyes.’
"You.....you’re not going to kill me, are you?"
"Heaven’s no Joseph. That is, unless you don’t do what I ask.."
Seconds later I found myself in the basement digging a massive hole. Grossman’s body was in a heap next to me like yesterday’s garbage. He said no one will ever look for him, he doesn’t have any family or a job so there’s no reason to look...Oh please God don’t have anyone look for him...please. I could see the early stages of the morning from the basement window; everything was gray and hazy, just like my mind. Drenched in sweat and dead tired, I made my way back up to the room. Maybe I should just call the cops....wait, they’d just assume I killed Grossman. Mother fucker, I just want all of this to end.
‘You’re damn right they’re going to think it was you.’ The voice said. ‘Like they’re really going to believe that a computer killed a landlord, or would they suspect some nobody tenant? Hmmmmm, let’s see.’
"Alright you got me there....what is your name?"
‘Just call me Alex, it’s easy enough to remember. We haven’t even been properly introduced. Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I am a virus. I go around finding computers and infect them. Be happy that you’re the first in a long line of computer causing havoc. These people are all bad, you have to understand that Joseph. If it wasn’t for me, you would still be stuck in your boring little life.’
"I liked my life, I liked my GIRLFRIEND!" I yelled. "I liked how things were before YOU came along and screwed it all up."
‘Hold on. You like living in a mess of your own garbage, taking orders from the now deceased Mr. Grossman and a girl who cheated on you?"
"She ch-"
"Indeed, and you had no idea, now did you? I was helping you out Joseph, and you didn’t even thank me for it."
"Fuck you Alex, haven’t you done enough already?"
"Apparently not, now who would love to hear about a dead body?"
"No."
"Hello Police, this is a resident at 4324 Oak Ridge road, apartment B, I have a suspicion that there is a body in the basement. Could you send somebody over as soon as possible?"
"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" I yelled, breathing harder and harder. In a vain attempt to block him out, I covered my ears.
"Time to face you life, Joseph. Are you going to help me get into more computers or spend the rest of your life in jail?" I looked around and remembered that the circuit breaker was in my open closet.
"FFFFUUUUUUUCCCKKKKK YYYYOOOOOOUUUU! I screamed, picking up an empty beer bottle and chucking it at the circuits. BAM! The shot was right on, killing all of the lights and frying the tower of my computer in an instant. I took in a breath of relief, it was finally over.
"Dude, I saw your computer in the dumpster outside, what the fuck happened?"
I took a long drag of my cigarette and got out of the chair. "Some electric problems or something, Dave. Don’t worry about it, that thing was a piece of shit anyways.
"Didn’t you spend,like, three grand on it or something?" Dave asked.
"Yeah something like that." I muttered. "Where were you all night? It’s like seven-thirty in the morning."
"Fucking awesome party dude." Dave said with pride. "There were kegs and shots and bitches, it was fucking amazing dude. I called you, but it said you phone was off, you jackass. Were you with your bitch or something?"
"We’re done, Dave. She was a cheating whore. She was cheating on me the whole time we were dating."
"That sucks dude....well hey, we’ll go get smashed tonight in celebration." I could tell he was still a little buzzed. "Anyways, didn’t see Gross-ass on his rocking chair outside, he must be sleeping or something."
"He, uhhhhhh, actually got a new house, yeah. And he just gave this one to us. He’ll be back within the week to pick up his stuff. That’s why I was up waiting for you Dave, I wanted to tell you the news myself. You take the downstairs and I’ll take this floor." Little did he know that I was just going to throw out all of Grossman’s stuff
"Really, are you serious? Dude, you’re like, the best room mate ever!" He galloped across the living room to hug me, but I stuck my arm out and stopped him.
"You’re welcome. Don’t hug me, I’ve had a long day." I said. "Just remember to pay the fucking rent now...please?"
"Yeah, no problem man, I’ll get it to you soon enough. "Man, it seems like you’ve had quite a night."
I smiled at him, taking another drag of my cigarette. "Dave, if you could only read my mind right now...."

I Got Fired.

2006-07-25T15:35:00.001-04:00

This was certainly a long time coming. Yes, I was fired from 4-h camp for bringing down the morale of AN ENTIRE STAFF. They should give out awards for that. Of course, I asked for a raise too, and that did not help with me keeping my job. So my whore boss spent all day looking for someone to take my place and getting my last paycheck before even telling me what was going on. I love how that place does everything behind a person's back including telling everyone that I quit so it makes them look better and makes me look like a douche for leaving everyone. They even told OTHER people that I was getting fired before I knew, the person who was getting canned. If anyone affiliated with that place is reading this, sorry but this is not slander, that is how things really went down. But getting fired was a blessing in disguise. Now I have more time to fuck around at home and hang out with people instead of listening to the constant bitching of smelly kids. So fuck that place, next time I ever see it will be when I buy it and tear the motherfucker down. The end.

I got a magic trick for you, Criss Angel.

2006-05-31T23:18:00.000-04:00

God I hate this man so much. I'll start with his half emo, half I have to be different name that is, "Criss Angel." Gay. If your last name is Angel and you feel offended, change it, you're doing everyone a favor. He comes on the show saying how hes a "Mind Freak" and can read minds and all this other fruity junk. He's not a magician but rather an illusionist, but its pretty much the same deal. You make stuff disappear and other things that aren't real. Wow. Lame. Get off cable. I can honestly say I like nothing about him except the part when the show ends. What do you call it? Right, the credits. If you watch queer-ass Criss angel make a hotdog magically appear in his anus, you are dropping I.Q. points like slutty girls taking off clothes, fast. My solution, stop, just stop. But I do not have any qualms about guest starring on his show sometime in the future, I'll show him my neat trick, making my fist "disappear" into his chest cavity and pull out a human heart. So drop dead Criss Angel, or better yet, do one final trick. Make yourself invisible.....Forever, thanks.

I Have To Start Doing This Again.

2006-05-22T00:59:00.000-04:00

It has been months, but now since I'm home for the summer and have no friends or a job, expect something here. Here is something I wrote for class.

5 shots deep
my mouth doesn't work right
only to spit out insults and tell the honest truth
I'm deaf to everything
except for the word
chug
Kill the bottle
a brick wall hits me
can't see
room spins
floor becomes my mattress
first words of the new day
what the hell did I do last night

Evan Asks Me A Question.

2006-02-22T23:21:00.000-05:00

Evan: i have a question for you
Evan: if you have sex with some twins conjoined at the hip
Evan: is it considered a three some
Me: yup
Me: as long as they have seperate brains
Me: and vaginas

Yeah, that's true, doncha think?

Shane Has Stupid Animals.

2006-02-07T22:49:00.000-05:00

Gather round, and I shall regale you with a tale of a kid who has not a single pet without some sort of flaw.

Meg- I call this dog Beefy. I think it's a Golden Retriever...That's if it weighed a normal amount. This dog is HUGE, and I mean it. It weighs around 160 pounds, more then yours truly. This huge manatee like creature has to back up to get out of a smaller space, and runs the other dogs over in the process, poor little bastards. To make matters worse, the dumb fuck eats rocks by the handful and can pick out the single one we throw at her in a driveway full of them. The best part of summer is sitting outside, drinking a beer and feeding rocks to Meg.

Kaylah- (Deceased) Thank God it died. Really. This dog was so stupid, it set the kitchen ON FIRE. Yeah, I would have killed it when it set the place I cooked food on fire and costs me thousands of dollars in damage. But Nooooo, Shane had to let it live. The nickname of this dog was Deffy, partly because it was deaf, and I could kick it in the ass and it had no idea where it was coming from. Deffy was a Irish Setter, and it definitely lived up to the name because it ran around like it was drunk all the time. I remember one time around Christmas when I fed it a Christmas bulb and it broke it and ate it, getting large chunks in it's tongue. I was yelled at for it, but I was only trying to kill it to end it's suffering, and If Deffy could talk I know in my heart she was thanking me for trying to end her life. Shane's mom did that for me though, when Deffy also become Blind and FINALLY put her down. Funny party was, they didn't tell Shane and he had no idea till about a week later, obviously he didn't like her enough to care.

Dolly (deceased)- I actually liked Dolly, the Black Lab, but when it was getting on in years (like 12), every time I would sleep over, I'd hear a devil like moan coming from the basement, which actually turned out to be Dolly clearing her throat. God damn, It sounded like Satan had returned to Earth and was living in Shane's Basement. I was scared for some time to sleep over there just because of Dolly. I remember the day Dolly was mortally wounded, Her and Deffy were racing to go outside, and Deffy slammed into her, breaking her back. 3 days later, she was put down. Stupid fucking Deffy had to ruin everything I loved about Dolly, hope she burns in hell.

Annie- Talk about a fucking rat. This little Poodle thingy has to be a million years old, mainly because it has like four teeth left and loves to snare them at me when I get too close to her 1.5 pound body. Ever find a hair clog in the sink? That's what Annie looks/ feels like when she unexpectedly jumps on you and sleeps on either your neck or feet. I wish this dog would die and send Dolly back, that would be really cool. Annie is also blind, and isn't afraid to bite. I'm not afraid to kick her clear across the room either.

P.S. She's also a lap whore and I hate that.

Phyllis- That is the worst dog name on the planet, but what do you expect from the Lahaie house? Anyways, I liked calling this Laupsa Apsu or however you spell it Puppy, Dubra, or Pisser because it couldn't keep from peeing itself when you petted it for a while. I never really liked the dog, but never hated it as much as some of the others. Puppy was a replacement dog, mainly because they lost Dolly and Kaylah in a short period of time. This dog seemed to hate me, and of course I would torture it by throwing covers on it and smacking the dumbass around. It's bitten me a few times, so I can honestly say its not my favorite dog, but it has a lot of problems. Before Shane got it, the dog was run over or something and it's pelvis was crushed. So, it doesn't pee real well, nor can jump up onto the couch, or poop well for that matter. It always has cliffhangers after it goes outside (shit still stuck to her) and I don't let that little bastard near me till it sits on Shane's lap, which makes me like it just a little more.

Purdy- (deceased) Don't know much about this dog, but it died, and it was probably half retarded like the others.

that's enough for the dogs, lets move on to the cats.

Pumpkin (Deceased)- This was my favorite animal of this house. I was a little orange kitty, and it was badass because it knew that Shane's house was a death trap, and wasn't seen all too much. It used to drink the water in the fishbowl until there was about an inch left, and would try to scoop the fish out. This cat was a genius in my eyes. Sadly (this is funny kinda to me) Pumpkin died. Shane's mom had left some of those gooey candle things out, and it just so happens on Christmas morning, it found out how delicious those candles were...mmmm. So Shane got a dead kitty for Christmas, and there was lots of crying that day. And who is to blame? Connie damnit, and she should pay for killing my favorite animal at that house. R.I.P. Pumpkin :-*

Shitty Cat, Don't Touch Me Cat, Lucky- They all suck, so I am going to group them. Shitty cat does just that, shit on pillows, so its outside every single day. It has a retarded moan, so it deserves to stay out there. Don't touch Me Cat, don't touch it. Its kinda normal, but will tear your eyes out within seconds. Lucky is a cool little kitty, but got the shit kicked out of him before Shane rescued Pumpkin and him. He only has one eye and half a tale, but he is all cat. If there was a cat battle at Shane's, this crazy little thing would probably win.

Ok, that was a lot of typing, so there you have it....fucked up animals at Shane's house...He should really invest in a smart animal, it would save a lot of time and money because he wouldn't have to put them down all the time.

So It Begins.

2006-01-25T23:29:00.000-05:00

Well, my new years resolution was to stop drinking...kinda hard when I'm living with 4 other kids over the age of 21 in a dorm that allows drinking. I've found out something though, drunk girls act a lot dumber when I am sober. It's pretty fun to be sober, or only drinking in a great while. I get to laugh at their stupid asses when they make fools of themselves or when they pass out. All I can say is, when they start to find me attractive or start hitting on me, they've had too much. The only downfall of being sober is that I am the fall-to guy when it comes to driving, which is a pain in my ass. Happy to say I've consumed less then a 6 pack since new year's day. Whoo Hoo for being a sober kid.

Auctions Kick Ass.

2006-01-16T23:41:00.000-05:00

Yes, yes they do. So I was sitting here on a Saturday night, doing absolutely nothing as usual, then got a call from Shane. He was bored (Without his girlfriend), so he came over and played some Xbox, nothing special. I remembered it was a Saturday, and I decided that we were going to the auction in Rhode Island. I hadn't been in quite a while, like seven or eight years, but it was my last weekend here so I might as well sit with a bunch of weird people and bid on stuff. When Shane and I got there, we had no idea where the door to go inside was. After standing there like two kids with down syndrome, someone walked out and we heard the door close then went in. This place smelled like a bag of assholes lit on fire, then smothered with some chunky vomit. That wasn't even the worst part. After sitting down for about 30 seconds, I noticed the floor was wet, then looked up to see if it was coming from the roof. Bam, water dripped right in my face, mmmm. I moved and actually started looking for crap to buy. I just couldn't keep looking straight ahead because there were so many ugly people, and I just had to keep looking down and thanking God I had all my teeth and clean clothing. The auction had so much junk, I couldn't believe it. Boxes of dusty books for 2 dollars, old rugs, just some weird random shit. After an hour and a half, I ended up with a box of Ring Dings and a box of Yodels. each for a dollar, I was somewhat happy. Shane had nothing, so it made me even more happy. My black brother showed up, along with Fat Kyle and my dad. Jeff and Kyle were drinking, so they were yelling random shit at the auctioneer like "I'll give you a dolla to shut up bitch!" Yeah, the guy didn't like that. After it was over, Shane wanted some bar neon light things, so we dug through a MOUND of stuff and found a few. We also stole one, just because we knew no one was going to find out/ stop us. So if you ever want to feel more secure of how you look, or theres nothing better to do, go down to Danny's Auction. I have a new slogan for them, "Danny's Auction, where we sell shit to people who look like shit."

Oh Shit I Just Found This.

2006-01-12T01:56:00.000-05:00

Everybody has dreams. Everybody had aspirations. But sometimes we hold ourselves back because we are afraid to take that leap of faith. We might be afraid of failing and embarrassing ourselves or maybe we just don't know where to begin. Well, for those of you who have interest in the areas below, you'll be saying goodbye to your tentative nature after reading my easy-to-follow How to...Tutorials.How to...find your soul mate online.There are billions of people in this world, which can seem a bit overwhelming at times. Especially when you consider the fact that there is only one person out there that is fully compatible with you and meant to be your "partner". That's right, you will be doomed to marry and divorce for eternity unless you find that special someone. The odds are against everyone, which is why many turn to masturbation and asexual reproduction. But what about the portion of the population that is made up of albino hermits with heliophobia and anthropophobia ( the fears of sunlight and people)? If the normal person is destined to have such problems with love, how will this rare group of people stand a chance? Fortunately for them, a savior has arrived at E-Harmony.com I haven't actually been to the site, but this is how I understand how it works. First, you fill out a questionnaire that has numerous topics. After that, the site will give you a list of people that answered at least 29 of the questions the same way you did. This might be the single greatest idea in the history of the world! If someone answers 29 questions the same way you did, they are obviously your soul mate. I suggest meeting the person as quickly as possible, because getting to know them will just delay your love and is a waste of time. Also, if the person lives on the other end of the country, be sure to meet them halfway so that the rendezvous will occur even sooner. But make sure to pick a meeting spot that is easy to find, such as a corn field or a deserted factory. But if you aren't able to drive out and meet the person, at least give them a photo of yourself and your address just in case they happen to be in the area some time.So finally there is a cure to the cancer that is love. Thank you E-Harmony.com, you're the best.

God damnit I am awesome.

#2

2006-01-08T02:29:00.000-05:00

I lived this sheltered life for some time with nothing interrupting my routine. Just me, Chris, and Mother. Of course, with any sort of routine comes change. In my home schooling class one day, I must have been eleven or twelve, and I asked if I had a father. It more or less came out as, "Where is my daddy?"
Everyone in those books I had been reading had a father, so where was mine? She just looked at me, stunned. Her pale blue eyes turned almost to a gray which I had never seen before. She rose out of her chair and glided softly to the window. She sighed and began to twirl the ends of her chestnut brown hair around her delicate fingers.
"Boys," She began. "I think its time I told you about your father, and about your fate."
This was the only time I actually wanted to listen to my mother in a good long while.
"A long time ago, it was said that one of your ancestors was waiting for a train, since these were the first days of the railroad, and accidently tripped an old gypsy woman. They exchanged words, and it was believed that the woman put a curse on him, saying that no male in his family will ever make it past the age of thirty, ever. After she said that, I kind of just sat there, realizing that there was only eighteen more years of my existence before I came to an end. A question immediately shot up in the back of my mind.
"How did they die?" I’d take that question back now if I only knew what she was going to say next.
"Most of them were freak accidents," she said softly, looking down so she wouldn’t have to see the fear in our eyes. "A few met their end in car accidents just days before their 30th birthday, others were electrocuted, accidently shot, and only one made it to the end day."
"End day?" I asked.

# 1

2006-01-07T00:39:00.000-05:00

I thought I had everything figured out. At a young age, I had accepted that everything in this world could be evaluated, analyzed and thought out to the degree where no possible error could be that so-called monkey wrench and collapse everything which I had strived for. Even calculating every possible mistake and the cost to fix or cut losses were not an issue. It’s those unexpected curve balls that throw everyone off balance. A death in the family, split second car accidents and terminal illnesses blind side us every minute of life. And of course, it all comes down to one thing. Single sheets of cotton-fiber rectangles separate wether or not one gets back to where they were going on the road with a questionable ending. I would have had it all. Every single minute fantasy would have been fulfilled, but I had my own monkey wrench and the fall was too great to just stand back up again.
With every action, something bad could happen, well...at least according to my mother.
"Don’t brush your teeth too hard, you could rupture a gum and have to get stitches. Watch out while playing with that toy car, you could slice off a finger with the wheel." She would only accept one reply, a monotone, "Yes mother." anything else would have left my cheek red and sticky hot with pain.
Growing up, I experienced as much free life as a Goldfish. Home school, S.S.R. Violin lesson, bed at 8 o’clock on the dot. That was my life. S.S.R. was my mom’s favorite time. (S.S.R. is sustained silent reading) It was the time where she would watch her soaps while my brother and I read because it would make us better people down the road, and a paper cut was the worst injury I could acquire. When I asked her if I could play outside with the other kids, an excuse and thirty minutes in the corner would be my answer.

Someone Is Trying To Kill Me.

2006-01-04T02:10:00.000-05:00

Let's see, what kind of retarded nonsense can I come up with tonight? How about a person trying to kill me? That sounds good.

Almost everyday, my father goes down to the local meat market in Moosup called Meme's. He buys sandwich meat there, and has become a regular over the months. So one day last week, he brings home egg salad and asks me to have some, so I did. I thought nothing of it until I woke up at 3 a.m and make sweet, sweet love to the toilet bowl for at least an hour. That was about as fun as peeing out a razorblade. So after dropping a few pounds and losing an entire day of playing video games and watching porn, I swore to never eat anything from that place again. Well, 2 nights ago, my father made everyone strawberry shortcake. Thinking nothing about the promise I made, I dug in and ate 2 of them. Something was off though, it tasted too sour, and I already knew something had to be wrong. I asked my father where he got the strawberries, and of course he said what I didn't want to hear...Meme's. Upon examining the discarded bag, I noticed a huge fucking RIP on the bottom that was there ALL ALONG before he bought it. If that wasn't so bad, I read the expiration date.....October. Oh, not this year, but rather 2004. I was already starting to feel sick. Luckily, I didn't puke, but just had some fucked up dreams. Well, the next day, I drove down there and gave the owner back the bag, told her about the god-awful egg salad, and got a 20 dollar coupon, but I would have rather have backhanded that idiot into a meat grinder. Whatever, I just asked if she was trying to kill me, but I never got a reply...she had to take a phone call. So I still don't know. If I die this month, you'll know why.

My Best Friend Was Jesus.

2006-01-02T00:14:00.000-05:00

I have a story to tell you about a man, a man who came out from nothing to be self-proclaimed reincarnation of our lord and savior, Jesus, A.K.A. J.C. Foster. This is all true, there is no need for any embellishing because there is no way a person can make this kind of shit up. First, you must understand that these people are indeed out of their fucking minds. J.C. First came to be my friend when I was 8 and lived a mile away from the house where he was living in Moosup, CT. He had 2 wives at this point, and they spent the days spray painting psalms such as, "The End Is Near," on the sides of the house (post year 2000). J.C. Really didn't own the house, but took advantage of a senile old man who actually believed that he was Jesus. I would go visit J.C. every Halloween, and he would give me a piece of bread and tell me that it was, "Part of his body," so I just threw it back in his lawn. Some of his neighbors said that one of his wives, or, "Sisters," had a baby, but they buried it in the backyard. That is such a lie, I know for a fact that J.C. eats babies, he doesn't let anything go to waste. A few years later, J.C. was kicked out of the home after the old man whom I called dumbass, finally died. J.C. And his sister hoes had to live in an old folks' home for a couple years after that. I had forgotten about my dear friend until I saw his toothless grin on the news at 10 because he got kicked out and put in jail. I never laughed harder when one of the officers stepped on his robe (They all wore white robes with white veils and shoes) and he called the cop, "A stupid ass cracker". I don't think the reincarnation of Jesus would be saying such harsh words, then again, he was crucified, and that hurts like a bitch, so I guess he is inclined to saying some mean shit from time to time. He was then put in jail for a while on some bogus charge of illegally living in the apartments for old people, and during that time, one of his sisters died of cancer. I was sad, but then confused. Couldn't the REAL Jesus bring people back to life? Recently, I spent a day with the former crackhead African-American man and his only surviving lover, "Sister Rachel," an ex-stripper who still looks like she has the goods. I needed to know an answer to something that bothered me for years, so I decided to ask the man who came from heaven, or the Ghetto of New York. I asked him why he had to buy wine at the package store instead of turning it from water, and he just looked at me like I was retarded and said, "I have no time for this business little man, I need to do me some curing". He actually said that. I was stunned as he walked out of the park where he currently lives to go buy communion wine from the package store. Well, he really doesn't live IN the park, but in a tank that was from WWII that just happens to be in the park. So my friendship died that day, but every time I'm passing the park, I make sure to beep my horn and wave, because after all, he's still my savior.

I Hate Society.

2005-12-26T23:00:00.000-05:00

Simply put, I hate society. I hate when people get in my way when they're on the phone and have to stop in place and yell as if they were on fire. I hate people who stop next to eachother on a MAIN ROAD and talk, so there is no room for me to get by. They could always pull over to talk, but NOOOO, they're just too good for that. Of course I had to come within inches of one of them and give him the finger, but he had it coming. I hate those crowded masses of people that linger in Supermarkets like a disease that just can't be cured. I hate all those loud, annoying, STUPID people who wear those mass-produced, " You laugh because I'm different, I laugh because you're all the same," T-shirts think it's funny to yell and get in my way when I'm trying to get something off a shelf. I hate those unsupervised kids who run into me and run away without saying sorry. If any of these traits apply to you, do me a favor and GET DEAD. I feel better now.

My Brother Makes The Best People-Kabobs

2005-11-25T00:10:00.000-05:00

I think that the title says it all..might as well tell you the entire story, since I'm bored out of my mind while watching South Park.

It was about 1:30 in the afternoon on Wednesday, and my brother Jeff had just gotten back from a half day at high school. He came in with his two friends, whom I only call retard and Mormon. The night before, my Dad bought me beer and bought Jeff a bottle of Bacardi Razz. So naturally he drank the entire pint right after he got back from school to start his vacation off right. I didn't know he had also smoked some pot, so his stupidity was in full effect. He decided to start a fire, which I knew wouldn't be a good idea to start with. I told him it was too windy to start one, but I didn't know the little bastard had gasoline. He and his retarded friends, stoned and drunk now, tossed gas on the fire. I was watching, just to make sure he didn't get too stupid with it. Jeff was pouring the gasoline into the fire via a small gas can with a plastic funnel attached to the top for gassing up lawnmowers and stuff like that. He would throw some on the fire, and quickly pull it back so the entire can wouldn't explode in his hand. Well, while under any influence, he got slow. The top of the gas can caught on fire, and instead of shaking it a little back and forth to put it out, he swung the motherfucker around, catching both retard and Mormon on fire. Retard was really ON FIRE AND RUNNING AROUND. Luckily, by punching himself repeatedly in the stomach, he was able to put himself out in 10 seconds or so with only the loss of his stomach hair. Mormon didn't even realize his back was on fire, so like any good person, I punched him until the fire was extinguished (well, maybe a few more swings after it was out.) I called Jeff a moron and took the gas away. Moral of the story: Throwing gas around calls for a very funny time and an excuse to punch people.

Call Now For A Waste Of Time.

2005-11-08T19:20:00.000-05:00

I was about to go to sleep, but right before I turned off the T.V. a commercial with a hot chick came on. So like any other guy, I stared at her chest for the whole thirty seconds she was on. She was promoting some crap about meeting, "That special someone," over the phone. These commercials always show gorgeous girls chatting away. For some reason, I just don't see that happening. First, really, really hot girls go out and hook up with guys, not over the phone. They also aren't watching re-runs of South Park on WCTX at 12:30 in the morning. The only "sexy singles" you're going to find are obese hicks with three ex-wives, looking to score and really desperate women living in trailer parks. Sorry, but in the real world, you actually have to go outside to meet a person whom might want to carry on your genes of stupidity and ignorance. To make it even worse, they have the nerve to only charge men, like the women I'm going to talk to are actually worth two dollars to connect. So please use a phone dating service to try and find a mate, chances are that it is not going to work. The only reasons you should be using it are if:

A) You are so ugly that society has given up on you.
B) Getting out of the house is not an option (you're too fucking fat)

History Of Beirut.

2005-10-29T15:44:00.000-04:00

I randomly found this on a website and thought everyone here would be interested to see how one of the coolest games was started. I take no credit for writing this article, since I just found it.

In October 1983, a brother from the currently inactive Sigma Nu fraternity on Lehigh was visiting some friends at Bucknell. While at a frat party, he observed two bucknell students who were bored and began to throw a ping pong ball back and forth at each other's cup. It was just a spur of the moment thing to pass the time. When this brother returned to Lehigh, on a random night he began to do the same thing with a fellow Sigma Nu brother. They then continued to add more cups to the ping pong table. Until they organized a game in which 2 teammates each arranged ten cups in whatever formation they desired on their side of the pingpong table. Whoever emptied all of the opponent's cups first was the winner. All empty cups were put back on the tabloe and if one sunk an empty, he had to pull a cup of his own. At this exact time, a suicide bomber attack upon the the US Marine headquarters in Beirut, Lebanon occured. The Sigma Nu brothers named the game they created "Beirut", because it was as if you were bombing your opponent. Beirut quckly became the preferred method of pregaming in the house, and soon spread in popularity throughout the many frats in Lehigh. Im not sure how soon, but within a few years all the greeks organized a beirut tournament with two brothers representing each frat. The team who won the very first tournament arranged their cups into one triangle, making it the most difficult to finish all ten when played with the empty rule. Soon after, the triangle formation became the most popular rack. Friends told friends about the game, and soon it spread across the country as the nation's most popular drinking game. This is where the great misconception come into play... Now, most people think Dartmouth invented the game. This is incorrect. Dartmouth invented BEER PONG sometime in the 1950's, and yes, they play with ping pong paddles, thus BEER PONG. There is no arguing this at all, and people who call beirut beer pong are incorrect. It is a completely different game. Go to Dartmouth and try it out. What most likely confused people on this over the last decade is probably because at Lehigh, standard 16 oz party cups have been long banned among the frats because the University is afraid it promotes binge drinking. Because of this, all beirut games were played with clear plastic 9 oz solo cups. When the game moved on to other colleges, people were not going to go out of their way to buy 9 oz cups when they already had the large 16 oz party sized ones. Because the 16oz cups arent clear for the most part, the empty cup rule has all but been forgotten. About the name confusion, beer pong existed long before beirut so people simply made the confusion. Also, beer pong is a lot easier to remember than beirut, and to someone who doesnt know about the Lebonon attacks in 1983, the name makes no sense. At lehigh, the game is as popular as ever. My house has 7 tables in our party room, including a hexagonal table which can play 3 games at a time or an altered 6 on six version of the game called "hex". The oldest tables from the early 90's the country of lebonon is painted on the table and there is a big explosion painted where beirut should be. Every house at lehigh has their own varied rules, and we still play with the 9 oz cups, and we still play with empties. Lehigh is the mecca of beirut. End of story. I hope i cleared this up for some people.

Bob.

2005-10-18T19:43:00.000-04:00

I hate Bob. You know, the furniture guy? Every time I see him on T.V., I want to strangle him. Why, you ask? Well, I doubt he could be more annoying, and I was so wrong. The addition of the past-her-prime loud mouth whore, whose name I still don't know, and don't care to know made me hate him even more. She is just as bad as Bob, her voice sounds like a cat being bashed into a dumpster when she goes on and on about discount furniture. They make it seem to be the best thing on Earth, but it says right in the title: DISCOUNT. The word means it's cheap, and cheap=crappy in my vocabulary. They should take a page of their own advice and, "Come on down!" so I can put my fist through his bald headed face and punch his trashy girlfriend in the boob for making T.V. and no radio that much shittier. I hope they know by being SO GOD DAMN ANNOYING I've stopped watching Fox and listening to the radio. Seriously though, please kill yourselves and stop wasting my time by peddling your crappy furniture to people who don't care. Thanks for ruining T.V. and radio.

P.S. I am glad that you two found each other , two annoying, loud, stupid people getting together gives me a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach. Scratch that, it was just the booze.

The 9 Phases Of Drinking.

2005-10-11T20:26:00.000-04:00

You all know drinking is the devil, or heaven in a bottle for some of you. Here is, what I think, are the phases of "Alcohol Consumption."

Feeling it- You are one or two shots or beers into drinking. Speech and movement isn't impaired in any way. Whatever you're drinking still tastes like alcohol, and you might feel a little bit more relaxed.

Buzzed- This phase is varied between heavy and light drinkers, it could be anywhere from 2 to 5 drinks, depending on how much you like the sauce. You feel a bit under the influence, but not much. That kid sitting next to you who keeps talking about nothing is getting quite annoying. A few more drinks in you, and contemplating hurling a chair at him pops into your mind, but you won't do it....Yet. Beer starts to taste less like shit and more like nothing.

Cocked- Now there are atleast 4+ drinks but no more then 6 in your system. This is the point where it seems like you want to take a piss every 5 minutes or so. At this point, you freely speak your mind, but can shut up if you want to. The body becomes more relaxed, and a few slurred words come out from time to time. This is the best phase of drinking I think, enough to feel good, but not enough to go streaking down the street and making a fool of yourself.

Hammered- There are six to nine drinks now in your system. This is considered the point of no return. If you haven't thrown up already, theres a good chance you will in the coming phases. If you close your eyes, you can feel your body swaying slightly, and it's kind of a pain to stand up straight. If you are a smoker or not, you're probably outside lighting one up.

Drunk- You don't care anymore...about anything. Stupidity flies out of your mouth, and possibly vomit too. It is very apparent that you are under the influence, mainly judging by lighting cigarettes backwards and using the side of the house as a leaning post. That girl everyone said was, "busted" starts to look very, very appealing even with her lazy eye. This is the last time you will be somewhat coherent for the rest of the night, so telling the hot girls you wanna bang them and telling the annoying kid he's a fuckface is not out of the question.

Sloshed- You have consumed 11+ drinks. Your ass is either in a chair, on the ground, or dry humping the ugly chick. Walking is now a chore, but you keep drinking if you can make up the coordination to put the cup to your mouth. If you are in the living room, you keep your eyes open in fear of becoming a marker board from your friends. This is usually where the brick wall hits, and more sober idiots keep messing with you and coax you into playing one last game of Beirut.

Trashed- 13+ drinks. Everything that happens from this point on you will learn the day after from your buddies. If you are by chance drinking Jagermeister, you most likely killed 2 people. Anything else though, you love every person in the room. You get your second wind right about here, so you keep on drinkin'. The pack of smokes you bought is just about empty, and so is your brain. You can't think straight, but you still call atleast five people who aren't at the party and tell them how much alcohol you've consumed. The calls usually sound like, "Dude....I'm so fucked up," in a barely audible voice. McDonald's sounds really good, but no one is sober enough to drive, so you scour the kitchen for any sign of food.

Blacked Out- Can't really say much about this phase except it means you drank too much for your dumb ass and you passed out somewhere.

Hung Over- The last and probably most painful phase of drinking. The next thing you will see besides the toilet is morning...Or the face of the chick you slept with. She appears a hell of a lot worse then last night, and I am sure that is enough of a reason to get out of the bed. You venture downstairs to be briefed by your friends on all the stupid acts you did, like peeing on cars, picking fights with lawn ornaments, and the he/she you were sucking face with last night. The hang over does not set in immediately, but about an hour later. They don't tell you about the drawings of male genitals on your forehead, but you will find out soon enough. This is also the day where you pray to God to make this all go away if you promise to stop drinking. Everything sucks today, so napping and eating all day is good. Of course, you plan the next time you are going to get through the 9 steps.

My Teacher Is A Douchebag.

2005-09-13T22:51:00.000-04:00

Since this is my 3rd time attempting to get used to a new college, I kinda figured, just from experience, that at least one of my teachers needs a brick to the face. I didn't think this was actually going to happen this year, but my English teacher just had to ruin my semester. Well, it started with an online quiz that everyone failed because we weren't "reading the text closely enough." I was kind of annoyed with getting an F, but Mr. Douchebag did take away the grade, which made me want to kill him a little less. He couldn't just leave it like that, but had to say something that made me want to get up and choke him out right there and then. He simply stated to the class, "In here, you're opinion really doesn't matter that much." Then goes on to say something about how he likes the Yankees or some stupid crap. How could someone be so stupid as to state that, then say A TOTAL OPINION right after. Moron. Isn't it part of the class to, I don't know, treat other people with respect and give opinions? Wait, I'm not a 60 year old loud mouth that thinks the center of the universe revolves around me. My mistake. I took that quiz again, and got a 90. Since I can't say anything in class, so in my opinion, my teacher is a giant Douchebag.

It's been a while.

2005-09-11T16:46:00.000-04:00

Yeah, has been like 3 months or so since I last posted, so I might as well start doing it again since I have nothing better to do. Here's a little poem I wrote for class. Hope you enjoy.

I got a restraining order the other day
from my dear friend Marlboro Red.
He has to stay at the gas station now.
We had the best times together
especially after dinner or
first thing in the morning.
We first met when I was 14,
and haven't lost touch since then
Everyone said he was bad news,
like my father and mother and siblings,
But he was their friend too.
He did cost me relationships at times,
but our friendship never ceased.
They also said he costs a lot
and makes me want to see him all the time.
They said I smelled like him, like a campfire.
I didn't believe anyone for years.
A few days ago,
I decided our friendship was over.
I still see him from time to time
but with other people, not me.
I hope he makes them happy,
and I wish him good luck.
Because now he makes me sick,
even to think about being friends again.

Nextel: Annoying Millions All Over

2005-06-07T16:20:00.000-04:00

If you own a Nextel phone, you shouldn't read this. First, if you work in the construction business, this does NOT apply to you. I say this because having a walkie-talkie on the job site is a good idea. If you aren't, well then you're retarded. I do not want to hear your stupid conversation with your girlfriend/boyfriend/grandma etc. I simply want to hit someone with a shovel when they go into a crowded area and use that damned walkie-talkie function. I really don't want to hear about how much you suck at life. I keep my conversations to myself, and everyone else should do the same. Another thing that really pisses me off about Nextel is that damn beeping noise it has. Whenever I hear it, I twinge a little and breaks whatever little concentration I had into pieces. So next time you want everyone in the radius of twenty feet to know about how you used a douche for the first time, please remember that no one gives a damn what you have to say and use a cell phone like a REGULAR PERSON. Thanks.

Homeless People Make More Than I Do.

2005-06-02T23:05:00.000-04:00

Just reading the title makes me sad. I was going to put this on days ago, but I just had too much going on in my simple life. Yeah, sorry to say, but I have found a homeless person that makes more money than I do hour for hour. In one day at Beit Bros, I make around 30 dollars in 5 hours with taxes being taken out. Gary on the other hand, makes roughly 10 dollars an hour. Seriously, I would rather have his job of cleaning parking lots then having to deal with snotty old bitches and broke trailer trash. All he does is pick up cigarette butts and paper. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to go homeless. People will give me money if they feel sorry for me, hopefully. The only pre-requisites I found were to smell like a sewage plant, have black teeth, and social skills limited only to mumbles and half retarded smiles. Better start not showering now, because the musk he has is about two or more years in the making.

I <3 Trees.

2005-05-25T22:49:00.000-04:00

Alright, I got a splitting headache, so I'll get right to the point. Yes, I do indeed love and envy trees. Think about it, remember when you were younger and wished you were something else to get out of going to school, homework, feeding Grandma etc. Well, if you were a tree, that would be no problem. There is a very simple equation to this. Grow some leaves + sun = food. All you do is eat, which is my favorite hobby . When winter rolls around, sleep through it (another favorite hobby). Fuck shoveling the snow or freezing your ass off at the bus stop. And another thing trees don't have to deal with: relationships. There would never be an awkward moment with a loved one or trying to get a prostitute down to 10 dollars for oral sex. Trees are asexual, or in idiot terms, it can fuck itself. So never having to do anything but eat and have sex with yourself, sleep through the winter, and live three-hundred years or more. When I die, I'm gonna ask God if I can come back as a tree....or a stop sign cuz those are super cool too.

I'm Boycotting Sunoco.

2005-05-23T12:47:00.000-04:00

Yes, after many loyal years of buying shit from the Sunoco gas station chain, I think it is time to call it quits. Well, it all happened a few days ago at about 2 o' clock in the morning. The crew and I were watching T.V. as Evan and Shane proceeded to beat the shit out of eachother for my own amusement...or was it alcohol, I can't remember. Anyways, someone asked me to go get a pack of smokes, and since I was going there to get some chips and soda, I agreed to it. A few minutes later I was there, and I got stared down from the prick behind the register. He looked like a retired cop, or someone who was an asshole ALL THE TIME. I went in and got the soda and stuff, and then asked for a pack of smokes. He insisted on making me take out my I.D. and that didn't really bother me. The part that did was he said I was too young to buy cigarettes. I just looked at him and realized this dumbass never figured out how to count, or he was just being A....prick. I argued with him and he finally let me have my way, even after looking at the little calendar on the counter that shows what day you have to be born on. I think he was drunk, or possibly just trying to piss me off because he knows how much better at life I am then he was or could ever be. That's really no reason to be mad at someone, just a mishap on my birthday. The part I did not mention was that when I came over to pay for the items rather then stealing (which I should have) I decided to pull out my cell phone and check the time. It was 2:08 A.M. He was writing something on a piece of paper on the counter, so there was no where I could put the soda and bag of ships. So I'm standing there, looking like a retard just holding a bag of chips, waiting for this asshole to be done writing something he could have been doing AFTER I GAVE HIM MONEY. I fucking hate people. After exactly 6 minutes of waiting, he finally rang me up, never once saying,"Sorry that took so long." or" I'm a burden to society and I know it." The total came up to $8.03. I gave him a 20 and a quarter so I wouldn't have .97 cents, cuz I hate change. He looked at me like I had just committed murder. The dumbass couldn't just think for a second and give me back $12.22 instead of $11.97. He stood there for a good 5 minutes, trying to figure out how much to give me back and saying shit under his breath. When I finally left, after he didn't say have a nice night (Prick) I whispered a little something under my breath. I know he heard, "Suck my..." So I think he got the picture. No wonder people love robbing gas stations at night. It seems like the biggest assholes work there, so they can get money and kill a dumb bastard at the same time. I think you should be given money for killing those types of people, even if there is no reasoning behind it. Never again will I go back to a Sunoco, fuck them, stupid pricks. Mobil was always nicer anyways, with the X-tra Mart attached...mmmm. So yeah, Boycott Sunoco, they suck.

Anakin Is A Crybaby Bitch

2005-05-19T23:01:00.000-04:00

For those of you who actually don't want some of the plot ruined for Star Wars III, don't read what I have to say, even though it is funny, sorta. Well, we did get in,but yeah it was packed. I ended up sitting in the 3rd row from the FRONT, but it still wasn't bad. During the movie, me and Mr. Ben Ward and I made fun of pretty much everything. I think there were three or more times where Anakin cried, making him one of the biggest emos I have ever seen. Besides that, the movie was pretty good. The excitement started at the door when we actually saw people dressed as Jedi. What a bunch of fags. I guess that's what you get for living in your moms basement and playing nothing but Dungeons and Dragons all day. After we got in and sat down in the crowded mass of people, some stupid little girl had a lightsaber waving in the row in front of us. I kinda wanted to snap it and see her cry. If you think that's bad, Anakin killed little kids, that's right, he slaughtered little kids. For some reason, Ben and I were cracking up. We are so going to hell when we die. Ben and I proceeded to make fun of Samuel L. Jackson and other stuff. Then Yoda did a little move that was sort of funny, and all of a sudden I hear applause. Yeah, clapping for a movie....Lame. They did it once when the movie started, once with the Yoda scene, and at the end. "I hate society," said Ben, and I sure do agree with him. It's bad enough the place was packed, but there were crying kids and people crying, blah, blah, blah. I wanted to sock someone to make an example that crying bitches doesn't solve anything, it just gets me pissed. So all the stuff I knew happened, and that was the end. I'm gonna go download a bootleg, atleast I can watch it in peace and make jokes.

Cancer: Friend Or Foe?

2005-05-18T23:06:00.000-04:00

I don't know about you, but I love cancer. Yup maybe if I'm lucky enough and my grades are good, I can get cancer some day. What kind of cancer would I want you ask? Well, I think I want a big ol' tumor growing right out the side of my head. Yeah, good position and an interesting conversation starter. People are sometimes like "Hey, check out my new (place anything here). Isn't it cool? " Well, I wouldn't have to say shit, it'd would just be like BAM, CANCER! Now there are some people out there who don't like cancer. Everyone knows at least one person who has beaten cancer. Hey, asshole, you're the one who got it, and you beat it? What are you trying to say? When I get something new, I love it and show it off to all my friends, I don't beat it. I wouldn't try and hide it either so know one would know about it. My saying is if you got it, show it. That's just impolite and cruel if you don't. Cancer is a funny little guy though, it has the same characteristics as some people. Benign....Lazy. Malignant...Faster, stronger, and it gets the job done. What the job? Death, duh. It also comes in a variety of sizes, just like people do. I think that's awesome. So kids, live fast, die young, and leave a huge,fat corpse. That's the way to be. So you better get addicted to smoking, dipping, chewing, and snuffing right now if you want that to happen in your lifetime. And don't forget to drain your bank accounts and steal from your parents, that teaches you life skills. Go get 'em, slugger.

Dayville attracts ugly people.

2005-05-15T23:55:00.000-04:00

Nothing else to do, so I guess I'll bitch.

I work in Dayville at Beit Bros. I've been working there since about January, and when I first got there, it was a good job I guess, but the pay sucks. Yup...Minimum wage, what a way to live. Anyways, usually we get our share of hotties coming in to buy groceries, but today there were none. I got there at 4 o'clock, and by 4:04, I had my first sighting of what Dayville, CT has to offer. Pink hot pants and a pink shirt....sexy? Almost, that's if it wasn't on a guy who was very, very homosexual. I don't hate the gay population, but if they wear that kind of shit, they should be made fun of. After that person left and I was able to go back into work with no fear of being checked out, I did my job and went outside. It could have only been an hour later at the most when I had yet another trailer trash sighting. It was a big lady sitting on the bench. I don't mean big as in a little chubby, more like pushing 350 lbs. I thought nothing much more then, "DAMMNNNNN this bitch is ugly." but it gets better. After sitting completely still for 5 minutes or so, this lady opened her toothless mouth to mumble strains of incoherent shit that no one could have understood. She went on and on, and from time to time I could pick out pieces of her conversation, like the words "crack", "Son", and "Fucking asshole". Now, if you think she was talking to me, you're wrong, she never even looked at me, just straight ahead, holding a conversation with no one. There wasn't a person within 30 feet of her. If that wasn't weird enough, she then reached into her purse and grabbed a picture. She pointed it out right in front of her to show the imaginary person apparently and then got up and went to the payphone. I was so confused. I had no idea what the fuck just happened and I didn't want to. I told someone inside, and they made her leave. It's Sunday night and I have to be back there for the next three days in a row, God help me.

My head hurts.

2005-04-15T16:03:00.000-04:00

After the title, there is not much to say, except I have math to do. So yeah I became unlazy and decided to write something after a month or so. I need a nap. Goodbye.

Dane Cook was onto something.

2005-02-07T01:16:00.000-05:00

Dane Cook is a man who makes me laugh. One of his well known bits, the Monopoly gag, was by far one of the best lines he could have ever concocted in the existence of human beings. "Fuck this game Grandma! Grampa, Nana is a cheating whore!" I love it. Anyways, the other night, my friends and I just figured we would play a game of Monopoly because there was nothing else to do that seemed as fun, so we set it up and started playing. I swear by the end we all wanted to kill one another because of something that happened in the game. I conclude: MONOPOLY BREAKS UP FRIENDSHIPS. A few pieces of paper and some little plastic hotels/houses could have some whipping out the shotgun and launching old friends into the great beyond. Damn those Parker Brothers, or Milton Bradley, whoever is to blame. And come to think of it, this was probably the 2nd or 3rd time ever that I have actually won/finished a full game in one night. It's a good thing to get pissed off, so you don't spend all your time playing some stupid game with all the money you WON'T make and go get a real life or something. But seriously, playing more than one game of Monopoly a month...Somebody call 911, because we might have an emergency on our hands.

P.S. I beat Shane with the help of Jeff the pirate and Evan the Panda, so I won't take all the credit for it. Later.

Wow I hate Cats.

2005-01-26T21:52:00.000-05:00

For the past 18 years, this family has insisted on having atleast one cat on the premises at all times. We've had cats come and go, one dying at the age of 22 last year. Theres only one of them left, my stupid fatass cat Sassy. She used to be fun, now shes just downright annoying. I don't mean annoying as in always wanting to be petted, well that too, but it won't leave my room, always nudges me when i'm trying to sleep, and has the worst meow type noise I have ever heard on an animal. The only thing it is useful for is keeping my feet warm when its cold outside. I think I finally figured out why my parents named my cat sassy. S.A.S.S.Y. is how its supposed to be spelled.

Stupid
Ass
Smelly
Son of a bitch
Yeah...couldn't think of anything for Y.

So in conclusion, I really hate my cat. I wish it would die....soon. I should play a game called hit-the-cat-with-a-shovel-and-see-how-long-it-takes-the-parents-to-realize-its-gone. My guess...never, they hate it too, what do you think?

What a day...Boring day that is.

2005-01-25T01:14:00.000-05:00

Woke up, shower, dressed, dug car out of snow for fifteen minutes, 2 hour psychology class, home, food, picked up brother from driver's Ed., back home, this. Wow, what a day. Anyways, i have 5 bucks left and a half a tank of gas, bye!

Favorites

2005-01-24T01:43:00.000-05:00

Here is a list of my favorite things, use them to your advantage.

Movie: Gotta be Bloodsport, ass-kicking, blood spewing true story about Van Damme fighting in Hong Kong. He even hooks up with a hottie reporter. DAAAAAMMMNNNN.

Album: Siren Songs of the Counter Culture by Rise Against. Pretty much any song by them I really like. This CD was the 1st one I was hooked on and I suggest you check it out if you like Punk.

Food: Gotta love the Chicken grinder from Johnny's in Brooklyn. Heaven for $7.45. If I had money right now and they were open at this hour, I'd go get one.

Activity: Playing those damn videogames, which have accounted for 75% of all the time I waste everyday. Madden '05 and SSX3 are the 2 I'm playing right now.

Class: Hate to say it, but probably Anatomy. I learn things, enough said.

Beverage: Non-Alcoholic, Mountain Dew. Alcoholic: I kind of like the Irish Carbombs, gotta represent the Mick in me.

Junk Food: Big ass bag of BBQ Fritos.....Except for the mess they leave on my fingers.

Time of Day: 3:30 A.M. Everything is quiet and peaceful, and my electric blanket is quite comfy.

Saying: Lately, "Good for you?! Good for us!" developed in Canada...Can't really remember how.

Person: can't say I found her yet. One of these days.

OK, now onto the things I hate.

Waking up, Loud people, Homework, Country( TO THE EXTREME) any sappy movie where no one gets killed/maimed, green apple anything, working, paying for stuff I don't want (books mostly) Snow because its cold and hurts my car, being poor, forgetting to do something important, and when I electrocuted myself by accident today...Poor finger.

The End

See ya, sleep now.

P.s. I put this back up yesterday...55 views since then...Wow.

Snow day

2005-01-22T22:57:00.000-05:00

Wow, theres a lot of snow outside. Theres like a foot out now, who cares, i don't have to shovel. Back home now...taking classes again. Awesome thing of the day is when i found all the episodes of Pete and Pete, horray for that. Besides that..nothing is really going on. I guess i'm pretty bored so i decided to write something in this. I haven't for a while. Later.

Out.

2004-11-06T22:23:00.000-05:00

Yup, no more SVC for me after Dec. 16th. Thank the good lord. If you go here, chances are I don't like you and I'll never see you again. That's good news for both of us. I decided to leave after about the 3rd week, and now with accreditation lost in some of the programs, I'd rather get out now than be told down the road my bachelors is worth nothing. Besides, this place is boredom central. Well, if I had the I.Q. of a tampon and loved getting drunk every night, I'd love it. Sorry, no dice.

40 days 'till I leave....that is about 960 hours. Outstanding.

Someone needs English 101.

2004-10-31T13:58:00.000-05:00

"dude...severe issues,reading this shit makes my life golden, i thought retareds had it bad..., you have real problems..., you whining little bitch...grow the fuck up and then grow a sack..., and then maybe you'll get a girl..., are yo sure your not gay because this is the kind of shit females bitch about..., OHH, and about that rectum shit, what the fuck, you actually put shit up your ass, on your free time, and you have joy from it, OK, "

Are you serious? "...,"is not the ending of a sentence, dipshit. You must have been tied to the tracks and the retard train must have kept running over you again and again. Before you get any more "ghetto" on my ass, why don't you try a course in the english language, it looks like you could benefit from this. No one likes a person who works at Price Chopper, where it looks like you'll be working there after you drop out of school because your parents couldn't pick up the tab of your stupidity anymore.

Finally, someone has enough balls to comment on me being a bitch. Wait....no name at the bottom?? Go figure, it's like punching someone in the dark. You commit the deed, but no one can ever be caught for it. Whiny little bitch, eh? Can't get a girl, eh? Let's see...at least I can spell correctly. And for girls, who the FUCK cares if I can get girls or not? I sure don't. Besides, this school is crawling with STD's from Ms. Sally-fucks-everyone. And another thing. I'd like to see ANY GUY I KNOW try nursing class for a couple weeks without being fustrated at times. I'll be happy knowing you'll have the shittest job in the world while I make 60$ an hour with a bunch of women. I thought it would be cool to be in classes of just girls, but it kind of sucks when you can't study with anyone because they're drying their nails and taking one of the thirty showers in a 24 hour period. So spare me the shit talking, unless you plan to do it to my face. I just love to see the day when that happens.

Braindead dolts can't even spell right. Come say it to my face tough guy.

The never ending fight.

2004-10-19T18:46:00.000-04:00

YANKEES BLOW! RED SOX SUCK!

That's all I hear around these parts. Espically because of the ALCS, it's even more frequent. Yes, I am a die hard Boston fan, but I don't care enough to scream and fight someone just because of the baseball team I like. I can only imagine if the Red Sox tie it up tonight, someone is going to get their shit ruined. Why can't anyone be a fan of a lesser popular team? I never hear, "Let's go Devil Rays!" or, "Go Pirates!" Wait, scratch that, one kid in my lounge actually likes them. He has the worst luck with his teams, Dolphins (0-6) and Pirates (just plain old suck), but I give him credit for not jumping on the banwagon like so many people here. There should be a limit to how many people can be Red Sox or Yankee fans, so we can have a more diverse group here. At least there won't be as many fights and there would also be less bitching about the same teams over and over again.

I believe Yankees fans are more aggressive here, they always want to fight a Boston fan for some reason. The Sox fans admit hating the Yankees, but aren't as violent. I watched a kid punch a bulletin board repetedly because the Yankees lost one game in this series. Is he fucking retarded? Punch a pillow, idiot. I doubt I would ever hit something because of the MLB. I would scream and stuff like that, but never throw my fists. That's just the mentallity here, wait, there is none. I keep forgetting i'm in ass-backwards Vermont, home of the dumbest gorup of people ever.

Can't wait till it's all over, I can finally get some sleep until next season.

Home.

2004-10-10T01:15:00.000-04:00

Yes, after seven of the longest weeks of my life, I have returned. I have to thank Heather for driving 5 or so hours to bring me home, so THANKS HEATHER. I thought coming home would be really cool, seeing all my friends, sleeping in my own bed, sleeping more than 3 hours etc. I came home and nearly cried because my mother took it upon herself to clean my entire room and turn it into some kind of frilly, squeaky clean guest room. Blah. Next, I found the parents had also gotten satellite TV and DSL. What the fuck? It's like the second I leave, they make it so I want to come back. Another thing, they weren't even home when I arrived and I've seen them for about an hour this whole weekend. I admit seeing the crew was good, and not having to pay $2.25 for laundry is nice, but as much as I hate SVC, I kind of want to go back. First you hate it, then you tolerate it, then you depend on it. Yeah, I depend on someone screaming random shit from the quad @ 4a.m. and class at 8:30 in the morning. Not. I'll be back there in a few days, and as soon as I get there, I'll want to come back.

It's more boring here than SVC....Damn that's bad.

2004-10-03T17:57:00.000-04:00

This is my current wallpaper. I play rugby, and I like the irish team, so here we go. If you're on campus and want it, find me, i'll hook you up.

Ok Heber.

2004-10-03T02:36:00.000-04:00

"i wanna read about the people that got your back and care about ya, liek the rugby team bro, so stop being a vigina"

That was Heber, my Veteran. I'm on the Rugby team, and since it's my 1st year playing here, i am a rookie (bitch). I clean the field and do a lot of other shit work, but its worth it because i get to kick the shit out of people. The rugby team is indeed...cool. These kids will watch my back 24/7 and make sure no one fucks with me. It's like having a security force with you at all times. On the field, we are one ass kicking machine (1st place). Off the field, we are a bunch of crazy motherfuckers that kick ass and take names. Fuck that, we just kick ass. There's not much else to say about these guys but they're an awesome group of people. Now, I gotta go to bed, but first, i'm going to kill the bitch upstairs who makes sooo much noise having sex. I'd hit that, with a MAc truck. Later.

I was Lied to.

2004-09-27T18:32:00.000-04:00

Three little words define what I am feeling right now, WHAT THE FUCK?!. After all those great movies I watched when I was back in high school, college was supposed to be about having random sex with girls you never met up until 10 minutes ago and drinking everything to the point of dying. Well, like it says above, I was lied to. All the girls here (except a few) I could never even thinking about laying a finger on because they might bite it off, and drinking beer will ultimately end up in you getting caught. Believe me, I was caught by the REAL cops, not these fucking rent-a-cops we have here who get paid in jolly ranchers or some shit. It will probably get better down the road, but right now, it fucking sucks, goodbye.

One or two beers cost you $260 and 5 hours in alcohol classes. I should have ran.

Play in traffic SVC.

2004-09-17T01:18:00.000-04:00

Ok, everyone probably hates their college a little bit, I'm with that group. I was having an O.K. night, when all of a sudden there is a knock on the door. It's one of the kids from my suite, Jess, saying there is a problem in my room and I have to deal with it. I go down there to discover a slightly intoxicated girl and a douchebag who will both remain nameless. I was going to walk her back to the room she left her purse in, but of course that didn't happen. I got tapped out (punched in the nuts) by douchebag. I hit the floor hard. Thank God he left, because that's the kind of shit someone will get themselves killed over. After putting some ice on my bruised testicles, I proceeded to walk her back halfway, well, more like limp. The only things keeping me sane right now are Corrie and this package of Oreos. Well, anyways, big match Saturday; I get to warm the bench. Goodnight.

Another day bitches.

2004-09-07T01:10:00.000-04:00

I hate this internet, this probably won't even post because the internet here sucks ASS. This kinda shit makes me wanna kick my dog, or a homeless person. Yes i am that pissed off about a damn internet connection. Sad, isn't it? Well, college is.....going, thats for sure. I hope this weekend i can go visit my boy ben in SUNY, #1 party school. Well, thats all for now, i hope everyone is doing good, unless i hate you, then you can go play in traffic. Goodnight.

College.

2004-09-05T17:45:00.000-04:00

Everyone left for the weekend, and it's been so fucking boring here. Luckily, I do have some people to hang out with, such as Ben, Corrie, Jess, Rugby team, and a few other slect people. College has been going good so far, only one assignment missed, hopefully no more. Ummm, I think i am going to go find something to do right about now. Catch all of you later. Brian.

Living the SVC life.

2004-08-28T00:20:00.000-04:00

Hello again,
I am indeed living the college life, and I have to say it's different. Well, I was told tonight I live in the most haunted room in the most haunted dorm on the school. Shadows look at you and stuff is written on the walls and such. I'm not sure if I believe all of that stuff, but it's quite interesting. I met a few chill people, "chill" being the word used a lot up here. Everyone is so layed back, it's unbelievable. Well, I'm gonna go, kinda tired and only running on a few hours of sleep. Talk to you later.

Meh.

2004-08-24T19:09:00.000-04:00

Only one more day of living in CT, then off to Vermont...blah. I went to the dentist today, I thought I could use some more pain in my life. I was informed that I had a cavity, first one ever. I think I'd rather get it pulled then filled. That way, atleast I get something out of the deal, high as hell from the nitrous oxide. Anyways, I better start packing...computer, tv, X-box, VCR...yup that's all I am going to bring. I probably won't be on here for a while..Possibly a week or so, but stay tuned, it's about to get crazy. Later.

Aren't they all the same?

2004-08-16T22:09:00.000-04:00

If there is one thing I love in this world, it's gummy bears. Every time I am at Wal*Mart, I am sure to pick up atleast a 5 pound bag. I love them for two reasons, they're great tasting, and cheap as all hell. Let's face it, buying a bag of M&M's is like 2 something, but 5 pounds of those sweet ass bears...like $2.50. Thats about .0031 cents a bear. God bless gummy bear making places all over U.S.A. Ok, back to what I was getting at. I had some G. Bears in my pocket, and being the nice guy that I am, I offered some to another staff. (I was at camp) She took a few, but threw a few away (all yellow) because they "don't taste good". Sure, I was pissed someone threw them out, but more because they really don't taste much different from all the others. These are the cheapest of the cheap gummy bears too, so I doubt anyone could say green tasted like lime, or orange ones tasted like orange. I tried to talk some sense into her, but felt like beating it into her instead. If anyone says they don't like one flavor of gummy bears because they say they don't taste good, kill them. Who cares about jail time? You proved your point, that's for sure.

Home Sick.

2004-08-09T19:34:00.000-04:00

Yep, home sick from camp. Well, the previous weekend was something to talk about, so as I sit here close to death, I might as well tell you what went down. First, I found out Shane is going to Canada, bastard. Second, we went to one party Friday night looking for some action. There were only a few people there, stoned out of their gord. So Shane, me, Ben, and Chad say we had to go "get some food" so we could leave. I later see that they stole some vodka, and 6 beers. Sweet. Ben had heard about another party happening, so since we were on a roll, we decided to crash the party and help ourselves to some more free beer. This party was a lot different, drunks everywhere, and all of a sudden, every prep I HATED from highschool was there, so we were out. Not before we had about 10 more beers to our stash. They're going to use them for the long drive to Canada, which is fine by me. Seriously though, beer is o.k., but nothing is sweeter than stolen beer. Amen.

One week left.

2004-08-07T19:20:00.000-04:00

Yes, thank God, only one more week. It's not all bad, but just gets boring/tiring/annoying after 7 weeks. I did buy a new computer, finally...1400 bucks worth. This thing is faster than a well planned bank robbery. Anyways, I was supposed to have only 4 kids this previous week...4. Well, God was probably feeling a little bored or something, so instead of another staff, and 2 junior staff, I recieved 3 additional kids, and the other counseler and a junior staff left. So the total was me, junior staff, and seven kids. I was ready to just say "fuck it" to the whole operation. And just to sweeten the deal, one was a clepto. For anyone out there that doesn't know what a clepto is, get slapped and then realize it's a person who steals things. His own mother told me, "He can't be trusted." What a way to be. I was so angry, i beat the shit out of the punching bag until my knuckles were to the point of bleeding. Hey, it's better than killing someone...I guess. I was stuck with horse duty for 2 hours a day, but it actually meant backbreaking labor, but they couldn't tell me that, they wanted to suprise me. Luckily, I didn't have to do that much. If i was a gun, and 4-H was a person, I'd shoot them. Even thouggh I think this way now, I'll probably miss it when it's gone for some reason. Maybe because I have to go to college, or wasting the summer isn't cool enough. I think that's about it. Oh yeah, John (scary grizzly fucker), you suck.

Blaam!

2004-07-25T01:35:00.000-04:00

Ok, I got nothing to say...It's 1:30 in the morning, and I gotta go back for week 5 in 10 hours....fuck. I got to "teach" the E.O. Smith girls B-ball team this week...and I beat up the center. Leg still fucking hurts, but who cares. Right now, I'm so tired, I don't even care. Goodnight...I'll be back in a week, hopefully with something funny like how I was wearing an "emo" shirt and almost committed suicide with a plastic fork...or punching a deer in the face because they suck. Or possibly one of my 14 year old campers burning everything in sight, dropping the N-bomb 30 times in front of the director, stealing a camper's underwear, and breaking a glowstick on all my stuff, and not getting kicked out. Yeah, something like that. Later.

Sorry.

2004-07-17T23:14:00.000-04:00

Sorry folks, no story this week, besides hurting my knee, nothing happened. I'll be back in 2 weeks...stay-over weekend @ 4-H. Later...

Another week, another story.

2004-07-10T17:12:00.000-04:00

I didn't have any kids to watch this week, so they decided to stick me up in the horse area, which is about a mile from the actual camp with phillip, who is from england. He's pretty cool, and the only english person to ever say Eminem is a "fucking genius". I didn't know they liked rap over there. Well, here is the story.. We got back to our cabin at 12:30, and while getting ready to go to bed, Phil spotted a mouse hiding in the corner. The lights were on in the cabin, but he shined the flashlight to indicate where it was. Suffering from a migrane, I decided that the little fucker was going down. I decided to throw something at it, but finding nothing but my expensive mp3 player, I slipped off a shoe and hucked it at the mouse. I missed, sadly, and Phil decided to use a stuffed monkey as a weapon. He nearly knocked out the screen, but stunning the rodent, giving me enough time to throw my other show at it. Missed again, but the 1st shoe had been thrown so hard, it bounced behind me. So I ran over, picked it up, and threw it with all my might. Bam, the beast had been defeated. My first thought was that I had just knocked it out, but under a closer look, it was in fact, fucking dead. I screamed out, " I got you good you fucker!"I wanted to call the taxidermist the next day so I could have it stuffed and mounted on a piece of wood, but sadly someone had run over the body after we tossed it outside, probably a horse. A girl who lived in that cabin the previous year had said a family of mice were living in it, so odds are one night, the rest of the family will be sitting pretty on my bed, knawing at my pillow. I got a suprise waiting for them, D.C. Shoe Co. size 10.5. Back next week.

4-H is where the retards gather.

2004-07-03T19:13:00.000-04:00

Yes, I am back from a hellish week at the imfamous 4-H camp. The food is dercent, and they pay me enough, but I swear that after the parents drop off their kids, they run like they stole something. They probably go home, smoke a cigarette, shotgun a few beers, and pray that this one week will last forever, and their slow-witted child doesn't burn the lodge down. I only have 4 campers this week, which I thought was luck, but the 4 were 10 years old and never wanted to do anything except talk about bitches and draw cocks on the cabin walls. I only joined in once, I swear. One child, who I have had before, is indeed the spawn of everything that is evil and unholy. He won't eat any of the food I serve him, because he calls me "the big germ", and I "infect" everything that I touch. I'm contemplating wether or not to starve him by touching everything. He also screams louder than higher than any girl in history. To recreate this, youy need an air horn and sounding it 2 inches from your ear and empting the canister. Yes, it's that fucking loud. He does this atleast two times per day just because I threaten to give him a time out. If they let me threaten him with violence, he'd probably stop, but no, that's some sort of abuse...probably. Ok, the little fucker just crushed my ankle while I am writing this. I think I'm going to raid the nature closet and steal a hatchet. Sadly, this is only the 3rd day out of 6 on the 1st week. God save us. I have 6 more weeks of this. No wonder why 85% of the staff arte alcoholics. Pray i stay sane.

Recap.

2004-06-17T20:49:00.000-04:00

Hhhhhhhok, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I have been pretty busy with finals, and E's parents were out of town, so you know what I was doing. Ok. Jeff and I were thinking about lobster fights a month ago, but we finally put it into action. We went to Beit's, but the only had these gigantic 12 pound lobsters, and I'm not rich, so we went to stop N' shop and picked up two 1 pound lobsters, which set us back about 15 bucks. We were going to give them really cool names, but ended up with wussy and pussy, because it suited them. We stuck them in a tub and watched them poke and prod eachother a little bit, but after 5 minutes of reasearch by Jeff, we found fresh water was lethal to lobsters. Duh. So we cooked the bastards, and they made everyone feel kinda sick..their last horrah. Ummm, parties..parties, bought an X-box, beer pong, and here we are today. Its about 85 degrees out, so I'm going to go take a cold shower or something. Later.

Back again.

2004-06-07T16:32:00.000-04:00

After a long absence from this page, I am happy to inform you that Fowzilla has returned with a new article, enjoy.

Jibberish with a "J"
The other day I want into a Subway and ordered a peanut butter and jelly grinder. I was laughed out of the store by the workers. Why is the thought of a PB & J grinder so amusing? Why can this delicacy not be found at Subway? Peanut butter and jelly is by far the most popular flavor for a sandwich, which I can prove from the extensive research I did while in elementary school. As a young child I was larger than most of the other kids in school, so I took it upon myself to do a "survey" of the smaller children's lunches. The vast majority went with peanut butter and jelly. So Subway, listen to my words, nature has proven that nuts and sticky substances go well together well, so put it on the menu.
Have you ever heard of a Moo-Moo? I'm not too familiar with it either, but apparently it is a gown that fat people wear. Why would and obese individual choose to wear such an incriminating piece of clothing? If I were overweight, I would wear something that is named after the sound of a thinner animal, such as a meow-meow. I heard that the gowns used to be called cockadoodledoo-cockadoodledoos, but because of an over abundance of syllables and to avoid gratuitous sexual innuendo, the fat nation settled for moo-moo.
Blood drives are great events. But many people need blood, which causes a never ending shortage. The Red Cross can never get enough blood, but it is their own fault. This paragraph goes out to all those higher-ups at the Red Cross who are making the important decisions. You guys are approaching the situation in the wrong manner. At the last blood drive I participated in, they gave out hates to all the donors. "Wow, I just received a hat. Let me go give more blood!" For some strange reason, I don't think the previous statement went through any of the donor's minds. You need to give them more incentive to give their ever precious hemoglobin. I have come up with a sure fire slogan to draw in the donors: "If you got a boner, come be a donor!" I propose that the Red Cross have all the people taking blood be female, and that they give hand jobs to the male donors. Believe me, this will draw in a lot more men than a free hat will.
Are you familiar with the term, "A baker's dozen"? Most donut shops connoisseurs get a warm fuzzy feeling when they hear the phrase, but I just don't believe it is fair to let this nonsense go on. There is even a chain of donut shops called "The Baker's Dozen". Someone needs to go down there and tell them that a dozen is only twelve, they're cheating themselves out of money.
Have you ever walked up a flight of stairs behind someone who is skipping stairs? I don't know about you, but that has never impressed me all that much. But have you ever been behind someone who is skipping stairs on the way down without holding onto the railing? I find that to be amazing. It takes a tremendous amount of foot-eye coordination to complete such a task. And think of all the time that could be saved by skipping the stairs on the way down. I can't do it, but if I could, I would be pretty damn proud. Let's say that I was filling out an application for employment, I would definitely list "can skip stairs-ON THE WAY DOWN" as a skill. Then when I got to the interview, I would be sure to mention it. "So Fowzilla, do you have any skills that might help you specifically as a secretary?" "Well, no I don't, but I can do things with a soccer ball you can only dream of. And if because of some unfortunate turn of events I happen to be in a freak accident and lose the use of both my arms, I could probably still complete most menial tasks such as typing and document sorting with my toes.
A big part of many English classes is expository writing. And I do agree that it is good to let the students open up their minds and create something original, but if they don't have any inspiration, something must be done. This is why I tell teachers to screw expository writing, and embrace suppository writing. How it works is the student takes fifteen minutes out of each day and writes a short work of fiction. They then fold it up as tightly as possible and place it in the dissolvable suppository capsule given to them by their teacher. Once the suppository is sealed up, the student places it up his or her rectum as far as the middle finger will reach. The logic behind it is that the colon is the part of the body where water is taken out of the wastes and put into the body. Once the suppository dissolves, the information from the writings will be absorbed, along with the water, into the body. After about a week of this, the student should have enough original ideas stored up in them to create a great, full length work of fiction.

You and your fears.

2004-05-31T00:20:00.000-04:00

Say you are lighting up a nice, fat, joint (sorry, not a pot smoker), when all of a sudden your pothead friend blurts out, "Hey man, Yellow lighters are bad luck". Then he proceeds to smash the lighter on the ground. What the fuck? This dumbass just smashed the one lighter you needed so you could forget the troubles of the day. Bad luck, no. Idiotic friend, yes. What, is a cop going to come running out of the woods brandishing a gun? Well, if he does just because you used a certain color of lighter that was supposedly "bad luck", give me a call. Whoever thinks that a certain color of lighters are "Bad luck" is a fucking retard and deserves to be bitten in the balls by an angry pitbull. I'd also like to find the person who came up with this low-quality lie and personally kick them in the nuts. Quality lighters are expensive, and I doubt anyone likes using matches or spending a dollar and a half for one. I think a while ago, my dipshit younger brother smashed a white lighter, claiming bad luck, and his fat Mormon friend landed a swift kick to his nuts. So if anyone you know smashes a lighter because of this reason, piss on them. Yep, pull down your pants and rinse them clean with a golden shower, because they deserve it. Colored lighters and slow minds don't mix.

P.S. Don't bother to message me and say this or any of these articles suck, because I didn't hold a gun to your head to read it, and I really don't care. The end.

Idiotic insects

2004-05-27T14:57:00.000-04:00

Zebras have stripes to confuse the enemy when they are in large groups. Giraffes have long necks to strip the leaves from high branches. God gave these unique characteristics to animals in order to help them with everyday tasks, and to possibly give them the edge. Well, when the all mighty God was giving out these abilities, he severely messed up on one, the moth. They serve no purpose other than being food, and that isn't the greatest accomplishment the world has seen. This is quite possibly the dumbest creature that will be on this planet, excluding the Lunar moth, because they can grow to be really fucking huge and possibly carry my dog away. They are also not that stupid tan color, but sweet colors like green. I was sitting outside my porch one warm night, and the lights were on outside. I spotted a moth that two seconds later crashed directly into that porch light, then flew head first into the wall and died. I just thought to myself,You have got to be kidding me. You just died. How could God let this go un-noticed? It didn't happen just one time either, it happened dozens of times just because of the set up of the lights, and moths being so retarded to begin with. Seriously, if it could fly in a straight line, it probably wouldnt be so apt to die by crashing into things. The moth is also quite possibly the least interesting/likeable type of insect. It's got big friggen eyes, big wings, and lots of legs that I sure would not want to be touching me. It's so ugly, I am surprised that they mate and still are in an annoyingly high quantity today. It's not interesting at all in that its a moth, end of story. So the next time you see a three legged dog that only runs around in circles, or a turkey vulture that runs at you when a gun is being pointed at its face, just remember that there is another animal that makes them look like geniuses, the moth or nature's biggest fuckup.

2004-05-25T17:29:00.000-04:00

You fat, fat bastard. I'd rip that shirt off of you, but its quite funny, and I doubt anyone would want to see what is underneath.

Good Night.

2004-05-23T00:45:00.000-04:00

College Humor www.collegehumor.com/linkswap/in.php?id=1153&dest=1 That's College Humor website. I insist everyone visit that site as much as possible. Copy and paste that link in your browser to go to it. Aside from all the funny college pictures/movies, it gets me another hit on my site. Awesome night, except there is grease on my car from the fried chicken fight they just had to have. I'm tired, and I need to accomplish a couple more papers tomorrow. Have a good night, I'm signing off.

P.S. I was DD (designated driver) so Evan can't harass me anymore that I don't drive people places.

Fun with Fecal Matter.

2004-05-19T12:51:00.000-04:00

Another post by Fowzilla.

Several species of primates throw their feces to deter predators and impress the female monkeys. Beavers eat their own poo because tree bark doesn't fully digest the first time through (and because it tastes so damn good). Unfortunately, we humans rarely ever utilize the goldmine that is our fecal matter. We just drop the kids off at the pool and never see them again. So I have come up with a few hypothetical situations that haven't actually happened (or maybe they have) to give our readers some fresh takes on poop usage.

To hell with the Flies.

If there is one thing I hate about the warmer weather, it is flies. They make no sense whatsoever. Why must you continually land on me when I am trying to watch T.V. in the living room? My house is fairly large, and is extremely large when viewed through your eyes, so just go bug the Bulldog in the other room. But unfortunately, the Flies never take my pleas into consideration, so last week I decided to take things into my own hands. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a paper plate. I then proceeded to take a big crap on it and spray with Febreze. I placed the paper plate in the middle of the living room on the floor, and the Flies didn't bother me after that.

Honorable Discharge.

Last Summer, I worked at an ice cream shop. I have nothing bad to say about the work, as the management treated the employees well and the work environment was postitve. But there was something about scooping Ice Cream out for senior citizens all say long that was kind of demeaning. After three weeks of work, I decided that the job was not for me, but I was too timid to tell the boss I wanted out. So I came up with a great plan to get myself fired.
On a particular day, a woman came up to the window and asked for a medium cone fudge berry swirl frozen yogurt. Good choice, I thought, but bad timing. I grabbed a large waffle cone and then proceeded to the bathroom. This did not raise the lady's suspicions because of the set up of the Ice Cream shop (The customers stand outside and talk to us through a window). Once in the bathroom, I filled the cone with a large amount of feces that I had been saving up in me for about 48 hours. I returned to the patron and handed her the cone. After the screams died down, I explained myself. "Ma'am, I don't see a need for the hysteria just because I didn't get your exact flavor. We ran out of fudge berry swirl earlier today, so instead I gave you the first scoops of a brand new Ice Cream we just got yesterday, Double Dutch Chocolate. Yeah, I heard that flavor is great. And because we couldn't get the exact kind that you wanted, I even upgraded your cone to a large and added nuts free of charge. Yep, those nuts were free!" A few minutes later I was fired and my mission was complete.

2004-05-18T21:47:00.000-04:00

This is what QVC should really stand for. Quality Value Channel...Hardly.

QVC can shove it.

2004-05-18T21:22:00.000-04:00

Flipping through my whole 20 channels I get, (thanks Mom and Dad) when it lands on QVC. All I am thinking to myself...Crap. They are trying to peddle mindless, useless things to middle American idiots who try and keep up with "the latest fashions". How many things can you say about a piece of clothing or a 14k chain? Those models must be all deaf, because there is no way they can listen to this verbal diarrhea day in and day out. I hate how they just stand there, trying to keep a straight face when really they just want to blurt out, "Wow, what a piece of crap! Only a mentally retarded person who stole a credit card would purchase this. Another thing, easy payments? Nothing is easy about 3 payments of two-hundred dollars. In the words of Mitch Hedberg, "They should make 2 easy payments, then one really hard one, just to piss some people off." It's easier to just GO TO THE STORE. Maybe these obese shut-ins can melt off a few pounds if they just walked to the store. I had a weird neighbor who taped QVC when she went out...Jesus save us. I wanted to just slap her. If you can talk mindless amounts of crap without ever feeling the need to call the suicide hotline, I suggest you audition as a speaker on QVC. One last thing, they must pay callers to phone the station to ramble on about how this is the miracle product blah blah blah. I wager that 99.995% of the people who call are either mentally unbalanced or live in a trailer park. Try and find a fault there. So if you need some mind numbing talk about a product...Turn it to QVC. Later.

2004-05-16T15:44:00.000-04:00

Jesus is no lightweight.

2004-05-16T15:02:00.001-04:00

Even Jesus is not above the law.

2004-05-16T15:02:00.000-04:00

Jesus lives at E.C.S.U

My best friend Branden.

2004-05-14T23:01:00.000-04:00

As we were in class today, our teacher had a couple of us go up to the front of the class and talk about a subject that she gave us. Mine was on what nags me. Then Branden came up and had to speak. His topic was on what money couldn't buy. Money can buy anything, from hookers to midgets to solid gold pantyhose, whatever your sick little mind can come up with. Well, after I shouted from the back of the room,"Happiness, idiot!" and "women" because he couldn't think of anything, Branden then made this topic of what money couldn't buy about me, which I admit was funny. He said that money couldn't buy me, but I admitted I was for sale. He was telling everyone in the class how long he was my friend, which went from 2 years to a year to just plain old hate. He admitted he doesn't like me, which got some laughs, then said he didn't listen to me when I spoke to him, etc etc. Well Branden, this is for you, my best friend.

Branden, Bill Gates couldn't buy you.

Yes Branden, no amount of money on this planet could buy you, no siree. Because really, who would want a high school junior with outrageous hair, sub-par clothing style, and braces? Not to mention listening to that ever popular "emo" music, which stands for emotional. You know what else is emotional? My foot in your ass. So don't put yourself on the E-Bay market anytime soon, Branden, because you are kind of like Enron stock right now, less expensive than used toilet paper. You know I love you Branden. Not.

2004-05-14T21:50:00.000-04:00

Got bored, so here's my desktop.

2004-05-14T20:48:00.000-04:00

This is me and Fowzilla.

Fowzillas how to guide.

2004-05-14T20:13:00.000-04:00

This is another post from Fowzilla, it's a long one, but worth it to read. Enjoy.

Everybody has dreams. Everybody had aspirations. But sometimes we hold ourselves back because we are afraid to take that leap of faith. We might be afraid of failing and embarrassing ourselves or maybe we just don't know where to begin. Well, for those of you who have interest in the areas below, you'll be saying goodbye to your tentative nature after reading my easy-to-follow How to...Tutorials.

How to...Find your soul mate online.

There are billions of people in this world, which can seem a bit overwhelming at times. Especially when you consider the fact that there is only one person out there that is fully compatible with you and meant to be your "partner". That's right, you will be doomed to marry and divorce for eternity unless you find that special someone. The odds are against everyone, which is why many turn to masturbation and asexual reproduction. But what about the portion of the population that is made up of albino hermits with heliophobia and anthropophobia ( the fears of sunlight and people)? If the normal person is destined to have such problems with love, how will this rare group of people stand a chance? Fortunately for them, a savior has arrived at E-Harmony.com I haven't actually been to the site, but this is how I understand how it works. First, you fill out a questionnaire that has numerous topics. After that, the site will give you a list of people that answered at least 29 of the questions the same way you did. This might be the single greatest idea in the history of the world! If someone answers 29 questions the same way you did, they are obviously your soul mate. I suggest meeting the person as quickly as possible, because getting to know them will just delay your love and is a waste of time. Also, if the person lives on the other end of the country, be sure to meet them halfway so that the rendezvous will occur even sooner. But make sure to pick a meeting spot that is easy to find, such as a corn field or a deserted factory. But if you aren't able to drive out and meet the person, at least give them a photo of yourself and your address just in case they happen to be in the area some time.

So finally there is a cure to the cancer that is love. Thank you E-Harmony.com, you're the best.

How to...Turn a hit and run into a profitable situation.

So you're driving down a back road, doing double the speed limit with the artist formerly known as Prince blaring on your radio. At the same time, a resident of the street is walking his dog around the front yard, waiting for him to go number two. All of a sudden, the clip on the leash breaks and the dog runs out into the street about five hundred feet in front of you. You clearly see the dog up ahead, but you figure that it will run out of the way before you get to it. Even an animal can tell when danger is lurking. After two thuds and a bunch of hair in your radiator, you realize that the dog wasn't going to move after all. You slam on the brakes and contemplate whether to stick around or not. Out of fear of what might happen to you because you had a drink or two, you decide to take off. But as you drive away it occurred to you that the dog's owner or another citizen may have seen you and took down your license plate number. This would make a bad situation even worse. Do not fret my friend, for I have the solution. First, you must drive straight to the local hospital and go to the emergency room. Complain of whiplash and make it very believable. Be sure to get a very large neck brace from the doctor before you leave. The next day, go back to the street you hit the dog on, and follow the blood trail to the house his owner lives in. Inform them that you will be suing for the maximum allowed in small claims court, $5,000. When you get to court, be sure to bring up your town's ordinance law that doesn't allow unleashed dogs on public property. Claim that the leash-less dog ran out in front of you, causing you to swerve and ultimately giving you a severe case of whiplash. Although the dog was merely a Chihuahua, hitting it still did extensive damage to your fender. Claim that you need the maximum amount allowed to pay for medical bills, mechanic bills, and pain and suffering due to the embarrassment of going to work as a male stripper with a neck brace on. But go to court knowing that you may not win, because even though you are suing for a righteous cause, some judges will see it differently. This is why I would suggest going on the People's Court. Try to win over not just the judge, but the public as well. That way if you don't win any money, you still get the support of the crowd they interview outside of the courthouse, at least you will still have your pride.

Fowzilla.

2004-05-14T20:12:00.000-04:00

Yes, kids, here is another literary work from Fowzilla.

I am appalled at the allegations against Michael Jackson. He is clearly innocent. So in his defense, I have written a short poem entitled, "I love your children more than you do---is that a crime?"

Michael is an extremely light skinned man
His epidermis has never seen the sun
But don't ever make fun of albinos
Because you are ignorant and will be shunned

He likes to give little boys alcohol
He loves to play games and have fun all night long
And if you think you are having fun now
Wait till he pulls out the black lights and bong

When he asks you to join him in his bed
You need not be afraid, it will be okay
He only wants you to be his best friend
He's not a child molester or gay

Don't get scared by his detachable nose
It is a great place to store extra canned goods
It makes for easy cleaning and storage
Which always puts him in the greatest of moods

So our friend Michael would love to meet you
And he will be glad to give you a helping hand
So if some of you boys want a good time
Come take a trip to the Ranch Neverland

No wonder your ratings suck.

2004-05-14T20:09:00.000-04:00

It's Sunday, and you know what that means-NOTHING ON TV. Even for those who have 300 channels, or people like me who have 3, there is still nothing even remotely entertaining to watch. Seriously, who in their right state of mind would want to watch a $3000 budgeted movie that has no plot or good characters at that? Unless you are EXTREMELY high, cooking shows are the epitome of boring. If the companies need something to put on the air, I bet I could assemble a team better than any of these no talent hacks they have choking the windpipe of corporate television. With my awesome team of Fowzilla, Desjardin, Shane-o-Mac, lunchbox, and Jesus, we are ready to take on the world. They could stick us on the shittiest network (UPN) and we could make it #1. Besides, who the fuck cares, its Sunday t.v. Even having 5 viewers would beat most stations. Anyways, if even one network threw something on that was good, like old episodes of the simpsons, or family guy, they would be one of the highest watched networks on weekends. This is why kids are always talking about suicide, because there is nothing ever on that is even remotely fun to watch without wanting to throw a javelin into the television. Goodbye, I got some things to do today.

Honk if you love Jesus

2004-05-14T20:08:00.000-04:00

I don't even know how this happened...Or how it even started. Thinking about it, we were in Jailene's room, I know that for sure, and it was Me, Ben, Shane, Becca, Jailene, Jess, Mark, and Evan, I think. Well, anyways, we found a lea, (Hawaiian thing) and wrapped it around his head like the crown of thorns. Then he took off his shirt, put on sandals, and stood up on a chair, looking so much like Jesus it was scary. If I can get the pictures from Shane, I'll put them up here. Anyways, we took pictures of him and proceeded to get out of the room because we didn't want to get written up. Someone came up with an idea tat Ben should also wear a loin cloth instead of the shorts he had on. So someone grabbed a sheet, and Ben proceeded to take of his pants, exposing nothing other than men's high cut briefs that made everyone fall over laughing. We took a red pen and drew on his hands and feet and ribs for the blood effect, then decided to drive to Dunkin' Doughnuts where we had our picture taken with the lady who worked there. (Like 2:30 A.M @ this point.) Then came walking MAIN STREET of Willimantic...Has to be one of the most dangerous places, but we has Jesus, who made a semi honk at us and people stare so much I thought they were going to crash, and then walked a ways and came back. Over to WAL*MART we went next, and Shane hit me with a bat, and Ben went skipping with an Easter Basket. We played there for a little while, and came back to the dorms, then to the police station. We wanted a picture with a cop, but she couldn't and told us to find one of the officers patrolling the streets. We sat in front of the dorm, just fucking around, when a cop pulled up, we asked if we could get a picture, she said "Hell, Yeah! I want a picture with J.C" So we then did that ( I need those pictures SHANE) Then talked for a bit then stumbled into bed at about 5:30 ( I didn't get to sleep till 6:55)....It was a good day to be a follower of Jesus...Later

Going once...Going twice...

2004-05-14T20:06:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry to inform you that I must write more about the Canterbury Tales, but after going through the entire novel in excruiating detail in my English class, I need some way to vent my fustration. Here is an excerpt from the back of the horrid novel used to sway potential readers/victims.

"It's lively, absorbing, and often outrageously funny, Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales is a work of genius, and undisputed classic that has held a special appeal for each generation of readers"

Hold everything---"Undisputed?" Sure, the load of crap that publishers feed by the shovel full on the back of books is supposed to inflate the novel's appeal, but printing lies is considered libel and is against the law. I dispute the "fact" that the Canterbury Tales is a classic, therefore, the gratuitous brown-nosing on the back cover is a blatant example of false advertisement. Frankly, I am appalled that a British novel penned in the late 1300's would show such disrespect for the United States Constitution. So I plan to take swift legal action against the author of this horrendous tale, Geoffrey Chaucer, and sue him for every penny he has.
Sure, suing someone who has been dead for over 600 years may seem like a lost cause, but one could certainly benefit from a court's decision in their favor. So what could I get if I won the trial of the century ,Fowzilla v.s Chaucer? I have concluded that since most people give away their belongings in their will, the deceased have four main possessions: their gravestone, coffin, the plot of land they were buried in and their actual corpse. These items may seem useless to some, but to an entrepreneur like myself, they are priceless. The first object I will use, the headstone, I will not sell but instead cut into six by six inch blocks to use for a border in my newly planted daffodil/tulip garden. I am going for the depressed look with my vegetation this year. Next, I will utilize the coffin by simply selling it to one of the many gothic students who attend my school. I am certain that those kids are sleeping in coffins, and if they're not, they would be of their parents could afford one. The plan for Chaucer's corpse is also simple: sell it on E-Bay. I'm 100% sure that there is at least one necrophyiliac out there that has a fetish for 14th century authors and couplet poetry. Lastly, with the plot of land at the cemetery, I will set up a compact flower/U.S. flag shop. What do you always see next to tombstones? The patriotic Red, White, and Blue or a large bouquet of flowers. People visiting dead loved ones don't want to look uncool or poor, so if they come to the cemetery empty handed it's ok because I will be selling graveyard necessities at a Reasonable price.
That concludes my plan for Chaucer. So all you dead, sub-par authors out there look out, because Fowzilla is out for blood. Don't allow outrageous claims to be made on the back of your book, or I'll sue the wedding band right off your dead finger.

Plethora of things

2004-05-14T20:02:00.000-04:00

Today was a day, just as the last 5,000 or so....No real meaning and I'm not dead yet. Ok, where to begin.... I asked Shane if he stayed a non-smoker, not a chance, and I came up with a good line to persuade him to keep munching on those cancer sticks.

B 56 kOutU: just think of it this way
B 56 kOutU: smoking gets you to god sooner

Shane then had something important to inform the public about.

Shane: we send money and aid to a country that should be quarantined and bombed. We shouldn't send over people to help and industrialize and introduce technology to people who do not even wipe there ass's.. They stink.. We need to let that civilization advance just as we have. No pressure and not forcing religion upon them... All I had to say was...

I concur my friend.

Onto another topic, 7 months w/ Roz today....Tax day, or what I like to call it, "Government gets check from all the hardworking citizens day."

I woke up @ 8 today, missed a class and took 2 tests that I probably failed miserably, yay for me. I can't really think of anything else to say except that Fowzilla wants some hot girls to e-mail him if they could, he thanks and will be back on next week with another article about something totally random and funny. Back tomorrow, I think I'll finish up some lab work. Later.

Presenting....Fowzilla

2004-05-14T20:01:00.000-04:00

Here's the 1st entry from Fowzilla, hope more to come in the following weeks.

For those of you who have had to read the Canterbury Tales, I empathize with you. I know the characters are dull, but there is one fairly amusing individual that Chaucer conspicuously left out of the novel. I will not let his character go unnoticed for any longer.

A New Pilgrim In The Canterbury Tales

There was a proctologist from Plainfield.
The mother named this man Dirk Maloney.
In size he was great, and much overweight,
Because he consumed too much boloney.

He told of his great feats as a doctor.
He searched many an anal cavity,
For tumors and lumps, polips and bumps,
But never an ounce of depravity.

In the public eye he was just flawless,
And very much the perfect model sage.
But when he's at home, he breaks the lawn gnomes,
And everything else in a drunken rage.

Sometimes Dirk can be considered a jerk.
When intoxicated he's just a fiend.
His vomit makes pools, but he is no fool.
When he wakes he makes the wife and kids clean.

So Dirk isn't the man he seems to be.
Even to his wife, whos known him since a teen.
For when she's asleep, from the house he creeps,
And becomes Martha the blonde-haired drag queen.

This has been a presentation of Fowzilla's work, Later Days.

Pay my bail in advance...WTF?

2004-05-14T19:59:00.000-04:00

was driving home from school today (skipped last period and sopping wet) and I heard a commercial on the radio. It was already turned up, so I figured I would listen. It was for a bail company, saying that they could pay your bail, blah, blah some bullshit whatever. Anyways, at the end, they also said that you could call them and pay your bail in advance....What the fuck? You must have E.S.P. or something, because how the hell do you know when you are going to get arrested next? The only thing that I could find useful about this is if I was a coke dealer or some shit like that so I could get right back on the street, serving rocks to this fine community. I would like to meet someone who pays their bail in advance, and what kind of job that they have, most likely a dealer. Anyways, I thought that I would share that with you because it sounds so fucked up and idiotic to pay for getting out of jail when you're not even there.....Yet.

Oh yes, very special announcement, introducing once a week now (starting tomorrow...I think) Fowzilla will entertain us with his own stories that will be sure to make you wonder what goes on in that mind of his. Stay tuned, mothafuckers. Later

How to end war, step one, set oven to 350 degrees...

2004-05-14T19:54:00.000-04:00

You don't need bombs, guns, and tanks to win a war. In fact, you really don't need much, only an oven and a box of cookie mix. If we just gave those Iraqi bastards some cookies, I am sure they would immediately give over Osama to us, especially for one of those badass 30 packs of Mrs. Field's cookies and a microwave to get them all gooey..mmmmmm. Seriously, cookies are like the next best thing to finding a one-hundred dollar bill on the street or free porn on TV,and no, not that soft-core shit either. Full girl on girl action, yeehaw. I bet that the German's would have given up WWI and II if we just whipped up a couple batches of cookies. I think Hitler was a oatmeal raisin kind of guy; he probably would have let all the Jews go too if we made them good enough. Then, we would put some on the ground in a line until it got under a cage, then catch the little bastard. BOOM! War all friggen done. The government should hire someone to find out what kind of cookie every enemy of us liked (that's a a lot of enemies) so we could do the same exact thing. One drawback....Would they eat the cookies off the ground? Anyways, cookies kick ass, they should also be turned into currency, who the hell cares if we can eat it? There is always room to make some more. Anyways, school was boring as always today, and we (Shane, Me, and Matt) are still wondering if that guy in the parking lot was going to have a baby, it seriously looked like he was a short, pregnant man. I bet Matt $50 if he would go over and ask "hey fella, is that gonna be a boy or a girl?" Wouldn't you? Ok, back to homework or whatnot, catch ya later.

Now i have 2

2004-05-14T19:47:00.000-04:00

2 journals, one in here and one @ livejournal, i'll see which one stays. Later