R.I.P. Buckwheat...
One of the greatest dogs in the world is being put to sleep today. Buckwheat is my neighbor's black lab, who I have known basically my entire life. One of the oldest memories that I have is when they got that dog. I was three years old, and it was Erica's fifth birthday. She was over at our house when her parents came into our backyard with a puppy. We were so excited. We ran in the house and got one of those ugly yellow bowls from like 1983, that I still use every single day, and filled it up with water for Buckwheat. Damn, it's crazy that I even remember that. That dog was ALWAYS over here when I was younger. My dad was like best friends with the thing, ha. Anyway, RIP Buckwheat. He lived a long, good life.
On a brighter note... I backed my dad's truck into a telephone pole last night. Oh wait... Let me start from the beginning. It was a regular boring Friday night getting shorter by the minute, and I had to get out of the house and do something before I went nuts. So I took my car and just started driving down Udall Road with no destination in mind. Eventually, I ended up at McLeod's house. And that's when the adventure began.
After exploring a world of Tonka trucks, Mario phones, and the muscle milk of a closet Nintendo freak, we went on a hunt to find Lylie Grove's house. McLeod got a call from some friends who said she was having a party, so we thought we'd check it out. Turns out I have no clue where she lives. So we carelessly gave up on that and continued our adventures. First, my car was about to die, so I went home and got the truck. Then, we ended up behind Tim Probert at a red light. Sweet! Of course, we decided to follow him. Sadly, by the time we reached West Babylon on Montauk Highway, we discovered it was some bald guy with a Marist College sticker in his back window. Bastard! After that, we really did find Lylie Grove's house, but it was already eleven o'clock, so we said fuck it. Then it was off to McDonald's to visit Criscuolo and get free apple pies. They were warm. And then it happened. After locating the approximate location of Mr. Caravana's house, I randomly turned down Deforest, the street by the Delphi Diner. And like a jackass, I didn't see the telephone pole behind me that took out the tail light of my dad's crappy Asian truck. That's another one for the debt list. I'm looking to make a profit this summer. Finally, after a drive-by of "the spot," it was time for some crappy Gwen Stefani and Turkey Hill Iced Tea. Next time it's Muscle Milk. Now that's somethin' outta nothin' for ya.
And I sucked at long jump today. I don't get it. What happened? Coach is making me run with the distance team this week, you know, so my sprinting gets faster. Yeah, that's gonna blow. Our Sprint Medley Relay did pretty good though. Fifth Place overall. Not too bad.
Tonight's gonna be a doozie... I have to stay home and watch my brother... Feel free to stop by and keep me company. Later.
Sunday, 11:10AM:
WIwrestling22: u no what i just found out it wasnt lyllie grove haven a party it was louie castagna
WIwrestling22: so when ferland said lyllie he really said louey
Ass.
On a brighter note... I backed my dad's truck into a telephone pole last night. Oh wait... Let me start from the beginning. It was a regular boring Friday night getting shorter by the minute, and I had to get out of the house and do something before I went nuts. So I took my car and just started driving down Udall Road with no destination in mind. Eventually, I ended up at McLeod's house. And that's when the adventure began.
After exploring a world of Tonka trucks, Mario phones, and the muscle milk of a closet Nintendo freak, we went on a hunt to find Lylie Grove's house. McLeod got a call from some friends who said she was having a party, so we thought we'd check it out. Turns out I have no clue where she lives. So we carelessly gave up on that and continued our adventures. First, my car was about to die, so I went home and got the truck. Then, we ended up behind Tim Probert at a red light. Sweet! Of course, we decided to follow him. Sadly, by the time we reached West Babylon on Montauk Highway, we discovered it was some bald guy with a Marist College sticker in his back window. Bastard! After that, we really did find Lylie Grove's house, but it was already eleven o'clock, so we said fuck it. Then it was off to McDonald's to visit Criscuolo and get free apple pies. They were warm. And then it happened. After locating the approximate location of Mr. Caravana's house, I randomly turned down Deforest, the street by the Delphi Diner. And like a jackass, I didn't see the telephone pole behind me that took out the tail light of my dad's crappy Asian truck. That's another one for the debt list. I'm looking to make a profit this summer. Finally, after a drive-by of "the spot," it was time for some crappy Gwen Stefani and Turkey Hill Iced Tea. Next time it's Muscle Milk. Now that's somethin' outta nothin' for ya.
And I sucked at long jump today. I don't get it. What happened? Coach is making me run with the distance team this week, you know, so my sprinting gets faster. Yeah, that's gonna blow. Our Sprint Medley Relay did pretty good though. Fifth Place overall. Not too bad.
Tonight's gonna be a doozie... I have to stay home and watch my brother... Feel free to stop by and keep me company. Later.
Sunday, 11:10AM:
WIwrestling22: u no what i just found out it wasnt lyllie grove haven a party it was louie castagna
WIwrestling22: so when ferland said lyllie he really said louey
Ass.