I almost made a post about weed ... what?
So I had this post typed up, and I don't think I submitted it, hold on, checking, yep shit I made a post about weed. Wierd.
I've been meaning to turn this blog into a depressing, my life sucks more than your life blog, but I guess I got sidetracked.
Truthfully, I'm extremely happy with myself. I'm not bored, I'm not torn by some sort of puppy love thing like most bloggers seem to be, I don't want to write a bunch of terrible depressing poetry to all of you people who pretty obviously don't care (not that I could, I'm not depressed, and I'm frequently mentioned as the most influential poet of all time), and really, I don't even know what I'm doing writing this stuff.
Why are you people reading this?
Are there people reading this? There could be thousands, there could be one, there could be just me. I've got absolutely no idea. But I'm not spouting off about how my mom is a huge ass bitch or how my Dad kicked my ass for stealing his beer or how I crashed my car and I hate the fucking cops that arrested me for drunk driving or something like that. No, I like happy things. I like bunnies, even though I'm pretty sure when I finally get a sporran it is going to have some sort of patch on it that took the life of a rabbit, I personally think I'm a normal looking kid, I listen to LSD inspired rock without thinking of how much I hate "the man."
In short, I'm perfect.
I know most of you (again, is there a you?) have already frequently thought this, and I apologize for being slow on the uptake. Although realistically you're too fast on the uptake because I'm the one that's perfect. Anyway, lets look at the evidence.
-Marlon Brando, shortly before his death, complained of seeing a white light and trying to move towards it, but his nurses thanked me when I pried his arms off of me and tucked him back into bed.
-I once ate 300 hot dogs on a dare from God
-I can bench press a horse, and if you really want to see something impressive, I can bench press a horse that's also bench-pressing a horse
-I built the original IBM microcomputer from bone fragments I found from an indian burial ground. Then I wrote Doom. I immediately beat the game.
-When late to class I ride in a hot air balloon powered not by hot air, but by hundreds of strong men whistling the theme to James Bond.
-I once wired my brain into a computer and beat the Queen of England at chess over the internet. I am now a knight.
-I am a direct descendant of the unbroken line of rock and roll Kings Johann Sebastian Bach, C.P.E. Bach, Sebastian Bach, and Catherine Bach.
-I can initiate a female orgasm just by suggesting to any good looking girl that she go "fuck herself" and "leave me alone." Or by winking softly.
-I singlehandedly defeated Stalin's 20 Million strong robotic army with nothing but a tape of "Old Yeller," a stilleto knife, and the Encyclopedia Britainica.
Let the record speak for itself I guess.
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I've been meaning to turn this blog into a depressing, my life sucks more than your life blog, but I guess I got sidetracked.
Truthfully, I'm extremely happy with myself. I'm not bored, I'm not torn by some sort of puppy love thing like most bloggers seem to be, I don't want to write a bunch of terrible depressing poetry to all of you people who pretty obviously don't care (not that I could, I'm not depressed, and I'm frequently mentioned as the most influential poet of all time), and really, I don't even know what I'm doing writing this stuff.
Why are you people reading this?
Are there people reading this? There could be thousands, there could be one, there could be just me. I've got absolutely no idea. But I'm not spouting off about how my mom is a huge ass bitch or how my Dad kicked my ass for stealing his beer or how I crashed my car and I hate the fucking cops that arrested me for drunk driving or something like that. No, I like happy things. I like bunnies, even though I'm pretty sure when I finally get a sporran it is going to have some sort of patch on it that took the life of a rabbit, I personally think I'm a normal looking kid, I listen to LSD inspired rock without thinking of how much I hate "the man."
In short, I'm perfect.
I know most of you (again, is there a you?) have already frequently thought this, and I apologize for being slow on the uptake. Although realistically you're too fast on the uptake because I'm the one that's perfect. Anyway, lets look at the evidence.
-Marlon Brando, shortly before his death, complained of seeing a white light and trying to move towards it, but his nurses thanked me when I pried his arms off of me and tucked him back into bed.
-I once ate 300 hot dogs on a dare from God
-I can bench press a horse, and if you really want to see something impressive, I can bench press a horse that's also bench-pressing a horse
-I built the original IBM microcomputer from bone fragments I found from an indian burial ground. Then I wrote Doom. I immediately beat the game.
-When late to class I ride in a hot air balloon powered not by hot air, but by hundreds of strong men whistling the theme to James Bond.
-I once wired my brain into a computer and beat the Queen of England at chess over the internet. I am now a knight.
-I am a direct descendant of the unbroken line of rock and roll Kings Johann Sebastian Bach, C.P.E. Bach, Sebastian Bach, and Catherine Bach.
-I can initiate a female orgasm just by suggesting to any good looking girl that she go "fuck herself" and "leave me alone." Or by winking softly.
-I singlehandedly defeated Stalin's 20 Million strong robotic army with nothing but a tape of "Old Yeller," a stilleto knife, and the Encyclopedia Britainica.
Let the record speak for itself I guess.
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