is there anything more wonderous than a backscratcher? IS THERE!??
no. there is not.
in other news. it has happened. the United States Army has officially endorsed a video game for the sole purpose of recruiting new soldiers. http://ps2.ign.com/objects/486/486890.html pretty soon war will be nothing but a bunch of gamers controlling robots to kill kill kill. let's not pretend that this wasn't the plan all along. still i think it's pretty sick.
this evening i arrived back at my uncles house and proceeded to chat with him about the days happenings whilst preparing chicken tacos for dinner. my uncle and my cousin, who are both considerably older than me, have a friend who lives in the neighborhood. his name is richard. i don't like him. he's big and knows everything about everything and when he says goodbye he hugs and gives a kiss on the cheek. for those of you who know me, unless i approach you first with arms outstretched, there is no hugging. there is definitely no kissing of cheeks. especially if you are an old large man with a rather booming voice and busted capillaries in your nose and i don't like the way you look at me. but i digress. as i was finishing up making the chicken tacos, there is a knock at the door. who could it be? richard, that's who. and he brings in his two fucking little yappy dogs who bug me as well. "we just came from the groomers and stopped by. oooh, what are you making?" first of all, dogs don't go to groomers. sissy oversized gerbils go to the groomers. (i appologize if this offends anyone who takes their dog to the groomer, but for the purposes of this story, just look down on it.) as far as i know, my dog gets groomed with a brush and a toe nail clipper in the hands of my dad. and my dog wouldn't be caught dead with a paisley bandana around his neck. but seeing as this man is my uncles friend i kindly invited him to eat with us, with the full expectation that he would decline siting the needs of his dogs as his reason. mother fucker accepted, and as we ate in front of the tv, cause fuck if i'm gonna talk while eating, he let his gerbils run all over the house. and what does one of them do? they went into my room and peed on my sweater which was lying on the floor. and what did richard do? he laughed. he laughed. "oops, guess i kept them inside too long. or he could just be marking his territory." ha ha very funny mother fucker. i don't like him.
in still other news, i don't want to get a myspace account. i don't...
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i really don't...
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in other news. it has happened. the United States Army has officially endorsed a video game for the sole purpose of recruiting new soldiers. http://ps2.ign.com/objects/486/486890.html pretty soon war will be nothing but a bunch of gamers controlling robots to kill kill kill. let's not pretend that this wasn't the plan all along. still i think it's pretty sick.
this evening i arrived back at my uncles house and proceeded to chat with him about the days happenings whilst preparing chicken tacos for dinner. my uncle and my cousin, who are both considerably older than me, have a friend who lives in the neighborhood. his name is richard. i don't like him. he's big and knows everything about everything and when he says goodbye he hugs and gives a kiss on the cheek. for those of you who know me, unless i approach you first with arms outstretched, there is no hugging. there is definitely no kissing of cheeks. especially if you are an old large man with a rather booming voice and busted capillaries in your nose and i don't like the way you look at me. but i digress. as i was finishing up making the chicken tacos, there is a knock at the door. who could it be? richard, that's who. and he brings in his two fucking little yappy dogs who bug me as well. "we just came from the groomers and stopped by. oooh, what are you making?" first of all, dogs don't go to groomers. sissy oversized gerbils go to the groomers. (i appologize if this offends anyone who takes their dog to the groomer, but for the purposes of this story, just look down on it.) as far as i know, my dog gets groomed with a brush and a toe nail clipper in the hands of my dad. and my dog wouldn't be caught dead with a paisley bandana around his neck. but seeing as this man is my uncles friend i kindly invited him to eat with us, with the full expectation that he would decline siting the needs of his dogs as his reason. mother fucker accepted, and as we ate in front of the tv, cause fuck if i'm gonna talk while eating, he let his gerbils run all over the house. and what does one of them do? they went into my room and peed on my sweater which was lying on the floor. and what did richard do? he laughed. he laughed. "oops, guess i kept them inside too long. or he could just be marking his territory." ha ha very funny mother fucker. i don't like him.
in still other news, i don't want to get a myspace account. i don't...
...
i really don't...
...