2008 best and worst

Last year I went to a midnight masquerade concert, and when the New Year rolled in, everyone was kissing their boyfriends and girlfriends, it seemed like I was the only one single at the festival. I made it my news year’s resolution now, to make sure I have someone to kiss and welcome the New Year when the clock strikes midnight, at the end of this upcoming year, the end of my loneliness.

bests of 2008:

finding my significant other

sub-2.00 gas prices

not feeling as creepy for wanting to impregnate a 16-year-old girl after watching Juno

seeing the end of American Beauty

1guy1cup

playing monopoly for 4 hours

rage threads

worsts of 2008:

seeing my leathery-wrinkley-thigh-ed-80-sumthun' year old grammama take a dump in the bathroom (which beats seeing my mom's crotch while she was taking a dookie in the bathroom from 2007) ((but beats it in a bad way))

playing monopoly for 4 hours

baby pillow thing

to whom it may concern:

i have what you want. if you really want your precious item back you will do as i say.  here is my list of demands:

1.  i need over 9 thousand million dollars

1.  a helicopter on the roof

1.  ????

1.  profit

1.  for you not to get so pissed off that i dont flush the toilet after a tinkle

follow the demands closely or else you will never see your loved one again

never date religious girls

i hate dating religious girls.  "why is that?" you may ask.  "is it because there’s no chemistry between you two?"  yes, that is exactly why.  they don’t believe in science and such things.   and by "such things" i mean premarital sex.

four score and seven years ago i rented scary/thriller movie to watch with a religious girl i really had my heart (hard) -on.   scary movies are great because it gives you the chance for the girl to get scared and cuddleup with her.  well the movie was jurassic park, and she was a jehova's witness.  its a great movie, with scary raptors.  but she didn’t believe in evolution or dinosaurs so she wasnt scared at all.  she felt like the whole movie was silly.  my plan failed while god's plan was successful.

things i hate

people who dont notice overexposure in photos

people with overly baggy clothes that look like jackasses while waddling everywhere

people who dont pay attention while watching movies and ask a lot of questions later

people who talk on phones while watching movies

people who ask stupid questions that start with the word "aint"

people who are hella bougie

people who wear jeans with bedazzled ass pockets

people who fist-pump at rock concerts

people who know little about certain topics and act like they are connoisseurs

people that say f50s are also known as ferarris

people who dont know the difference between tasers and stun-guns

You're vain, your games 
You're insecure 
You love me, you like her 
You make me laugh 
You make me cry 
I don't know which side to buy 
Your friends they're jerks 
When you act like them 
Just know it hurts 
I wanna be with the one I know 
And the seventh thing I hate the most that you do 
You make me love you 

kettle corn

pokeball

i wish i could live inside a pokeball

or just have one.  you know how easy it is to clean up messes with one?  you just point and click.  and it just sucks it up with a red laser beam.  and it makes abducting women easier too.  and you just point the thing at your pubes and the crabs get sucked up by a some sort of poke-magic.  yes.  now i am really considering buying two.  because your mother needs one too.  where do you think i got the crabs?  

but i guess i cant live inside of one. because my porno collection wouldn't fit.

storytelling

i think my father's in a cult, but he doesn't want to talk about it. i know they brainwash you in cults and with scientology and their d/dx's* and then tell you to keep it a secret. and i keep asking him about where he goes all day but they told him to say that he goes to "work". yeah, right, if "work" was a place where you wear neat, new, nwhite* nikes, and drink fruit punch all day, while talking about chakras and meditation, then maybe. but they've seriously got him to think that doing cult-activities like changing oil and doing tune-ups from nine-to-five for a paycheck in a cult is called "working". its probably already too late. he likes tom cruise way too much. i dont know where im going with this story... well i guess i just screwed up this story-telling joke. no. you just screwed up reading it. yes, it was your fault. just like global warming, your parents' divorce, and why it stings when you pee. everything is your fault.

but seriously. what am i still doing awake? its not because i'm a loser. it's probably because i'm a big, gigantic winner. a winner of consciousness*.







footnote #1: derivatives
footnote #2: i was going for alliteration.
footnote #4: i skipped #3
footnote #5: "conscienceness" if "consciousness" was wrong. and i dont like this post/note but i spent so much time on it that if i deleted it now i'd probably be sad and join a cult. i'm due for a tire-rotation.

party

i am probably going to be bored this break. so invite me to one and/or two of your parties.  i can be the one you can cry on when you're drunk and full of emotions and/or tears.  or i can be the one who you throw up all over when you're drunk and full of nausea and/or food. or you can do both where you throw up on me, and then cry about it right after.  unless you're super cool, then you'd throw up eyeball clones that would cry into your beer cup, and rehydrate yourself so you can cry more as you regurgitate more weeping eyeballs. this is what physicians define as a "perpetual motion device".  this is highly desirable by physicians and emo kids, ...but not the straight edged kind, they don't drink. 
but that's only if you're super cool.
or you can just be plain, regular cool, unleaded, octane rating 87.

feel crappy

the thing about exams and diarrhea is that they both come in waves.  that and the fact that they both make you want to leave the lecture hall.  yeah. and they suck, and leave stains on your boxers.  i mean gpa.  i meant stains on your gpa.

so I'm finally done with the first set, and now all I have to do is wait for the next time i feel real crappy. amirite?

hello

in this blog i will attempt to write good blogs.  blogs so good that people read them all of the time and leave me nice comments.  i call these comments, "goodies."  i wish that when i log onto my blog, it is as if i plunged my naked, shimmering body into a large bathtub full of these "goodies."  so as the "goodies" cover my naked flesh, i will make "goody-angels" in a fit of joy.
these "goodies" are a special form of love.  the kind of love that you can't buy from prostitutes.  not even from the underaged ones in thailand.  you know, the pregnant ones that pose with eyepatches and let you shoot their ak-47s for no extra charge.  no, you cannot buy that kind of love.   well not with the american economy being this bad anyway.

so show me your goodies.   or refer me to a good pimp.