Almost.
Nice 'stache.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Mysterious object crashes through house?!
Hmmm, I've seen this kind of thing before....
Today, I woke up with a mission. I wanted to build a fort. Remember? I wanted to build a fort made of blankets. I used every blanket in the house to build it. I connected the couch to the t.v. with a nice fleece throw blanket and used pillows and sneakers and speaker stands to weigh it down (hold the fort down). It was a secure.
But then I got really into it. I started to pretend that my fort was kind of like an Abu Grahib detention center. I pretended that piles of clothes were my prisoners. (because they stink!) My cat Steve and I became guards of the fort. Im not sure about this, but I think Steve mistreated some of the prisoners. At one point he was standing on top of one of them and doing that kneeding thing that cats for some reason really enjoy, you know. If you interrupt him, he hisses. So I let him finish. Then I help the prisoner back into his pile. I realized Steve was right. These piles of clothes were scum. In fact, they would hurt us if they could. So I got my jumper cables from my Jeep and Steve was in sole patrol (yeah Taylor hicks!) of the fort. I came back and attached the cables to one of the prisoners (a bunch of socks). I hooked the cables up to a battery on one end, and where I think the prisoners balls were on the other end.
Now the fort is in full swing, weve got isolation chambers (not the kind used in t.v. game shows) but like the hole. The place where bad prisoners go. As opposed to all those good prisoners. Anyway, I started to gently shock one of the prisoners and he caught on fire. Steve went A.W.O.L. and hid behind the toilet. I yelled "dont abandon this fort you pussy!" Which was basically like saying nothing at all. Calling cats pussies is like someone calling you human. Dont abandon this fort you human. You tantalizing delicious human. What I'm saying is it had no effect. Steve left anyway.
Now, I'm alone in the fort while one prisoner is totally ablaze and now the roof of sector 3 (leopard blanket) goes up in flames and I realize Im going to lose this fort. The hell I am! I grab the flaming prisoner and throw him in the water hole (Kenmore washing machine) and attend to the fort. So the situation is very much in control now. But, I've learned running a fort is difficult.
That's all pillows.
Hmmm, I've seen this kind of thing before....
Today, I woke up with a mission. I wanted to build a fort. Remember? I wanted to build a fort made of blankets. I used every blanket in the house to build it. I connected the couch to the t.v. with a nice fleece throw blanket and used pillows and sneakers and speaker stands to weigh it down (hold the fort down). It was a secure.
But then I got really into it. I started to pretend that my fort was kind of like an Abu Grahib detention center. I pretended that piles of clothes were my prisoners. (because they stink!) My cat Steve and I became guards of the fort. Im not sure about this, but I think Steve mistreated some of the prisoners. At one point he was standing on top of one of them and doing that kneeding thing that cats for some reason really enjoy, you know. If you interrupt him, he hisses. So I let him finish. Then I help the prisoner back into his pile. I realized Steve was right. These piles of clothes were scum. In fact, they would hurt us if they could. So I got my jumper cables from my Jeep and Steve was in sole patrol (yeah Taylor hicks!) of the fort. I came back and attached the cables to one of the prisoners (a bunch of socks). I hooked the cables up to a battery on one end, and where I think the prisoners balls were on the other end.
Now the fort is in full swing, weve got isolation chambers (not the kind used in t.v. game shows) but like the hole. The place where bad prisoners go. As opposed to all those good prisoners. Anyway, I started to gently shock one of the prisoners and he caught on fire. Steve went A.W.O.L. and hid behind the toilet. I yelled "dont abandon this fort you pussy!" Which was basically like saying nothing at all. Calling cats pussies is like someone calling you human. Dont abandon this fort you human. You tantalizing delicious human. What I'm saying is it had no effect. Steve left anyway.
Now, I'm alone in the fort while one prisoner is totally ablaze and now the roof of sector 3 (leopard blanket) goes up in flames and I realize Im going to lose this fort. The hell I am! I grab the flaming prisoner and throw him in the water hole (Kenmore washing machine) and attend to the fort. So the situation is very much in control now. But, I've learned running a fort is difficult.
That's all pillows.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Great. Holidays were good for you, I hope.
Happy the New Year!
Dog Massages?
$130? Are you serious? Or $220 for the in-room massage, with biscuits? There are escorts cheaper than that. And they are for humans. Even if you have ridiculous amounts of cash, that is just raddichio. Just wake up every day and shove a $50 up your dog's ass. He won't know the difference. Try petting your dog once in awhile, it's free and you'll have all that extra cash to pay for your kid's therapy.
That'll be $4,ooo.
Aaaaaaaaaah!
Mean kids. Seventh grade. Art class. I was sitting at a desk with two other guys. One of them was named Justin, and the other was named Mike. They didn't like me at all. One particular time stands out to me illustrating just how hilariously nasty kids can be.
We were making rubber stamps of something, and Justin turned to me and was like "I fucked your Mom". Justin was always trying to be so cool in front of Mike, so he would constantly initiate these conversations. He was greasy. His hair was dark and wet. His face was so moist and his eyes were consistently half-shut. "I fucked your Mom". I had enough.
So I was like "my mom is dead". She wasn't and isn't, but I just thought for some reason he would feel, I don't know, terrible about himself. "My mom is dead" . I thought that would have ended to bullying for awhile and we could go back to making rubber stamps. Just then Mike lifts up his head and says "she's dead because we fucked her so hard".
Hilarious. It was as if he called my bluff. He was like "I call your mom is dead, and I raise you us fucking her to death". Clearly I lost the hand. What could I say? I lied. I couldn't follow that up with a punch. My Mom was fine. In fact, I should have never said that. Right?
Happy New Year. My Mom is fine.
Not my mom. But I know you still want to fuck her.
Happy the New Year!
Dog Massages?
$130? Are you serious? Or $220 for the in-room massage, with biscuits? There are escorts cheaper than that. And they are for humans. Even if you have ridiculous amounts of cash, that is just raddichio. Just wake up every day and shove a $50 up your dog's ass. He won't know the difference. Try petting your dog once in awhile, it's free and you'll have all that extra cash to pay for your kid's therapy.
That'll be $4,ooo.
Aaaaaaaaaah!
Mean kids. Seventh grade. Art class. I was sitting at a desk with two other guys. One of them was named Justin, and the other was named Mike. They didn't like me at all. One particular time stands out to me illustrating just how hilariously nasty kids can be.
We were making rubber stamps of something, and Justin turned to me and was like "I fucked your Mom". Justin was always trying to be so cool in front of Mike, so he would constantly initiate these conversations. He was greasy. His hair was dark and wet. His face was so moist and his eyes were consistently half-shut. "I fucked your Mom". I had enough.
So I was like "my mom is dead". She wasn't and isn't, but I just thought for some reason he would feel, I don't know, terrible about himself. "My mom is dead" . I thought that would have ended to bullying for awhile and we could go back to making rubber stamps. Just then Mike lifts up his head and says "she's dead because we fucked her so hard".
Hilarious. It was as if he called my bluff. He was like "I call your mom is dead, and I raise you us fucking her to death". Clearly I lost the hand. What could I say? I lied. I couldn't follow that up with a punch. My Mom was fine. In fact, I should have never said that. Right?
Happy New Year. My Mom is fine.
Not my mom. But I know you still want to fuck her.
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