I've been neglecting this old thing for my
twitter facebook and
myspace pages, I've decided to turn this thing over to my son, Randall K. Truman. He's about twelve and it's about time he learned how to use the internet. if he does well, I will let him have his own website thing. This is like when my dad gave me his old beeper to see if I could understand cell-phones. Goodbye, everybody. Hello, Randall!
thanks, dad. are you leaving now? i caught my dad being weird. he thought nobody else was here in the paratment. but of course i was here, its summer. schools out and dad doesn't believe in summer camps. i was reading in my bed, when i heard my dad shouting and laughing hysterically. i ran out into the main room all scared. my dad got embarassed and tried to speak. 'sorry to scare you boy...sometimes dads when they are alone...they forget how to behave. the rules...the rules change when you are, dads, not you yet," he mussled my hair when he said that. "they yell and scream at computers or tvs and kitchen cabinets that kevins leave open all day. did you know that your dad ran into a closet door this morning because kevin left it open? the door is perpendicular to your dads bedroom door, so there is really no way to avoid it if you are not paying attention," he mussled the dog's hair as he said that. "so it is time for you to learn how to be a man. here is my old internet, son. happy birthday!!!" get it? got it? good.