Monday, November 08, 2004

Whenever I allow new people into my weird little world, (by telling them about the webpage,) I've repeatedly been asked if I'm a writer. The quick and dirty answer is no. No, I'm not a writer, unless this counts in some perverse way. (And for the record, I don't think it should count in any way, shape, or form.) The fact is that I've seen writing WAY the hell better than my own semi-coherent ramblings in this sort of set up, and I've seen many a blog that makes this page seem to be on par with a Shakespearian play or what have you. And honestly kids, we all know that I'm no Jesus- inking- the- first- copy- of- the- bible- on- banana- leaves- in- my- own- blood- here... Unless we see a major spike in visitor traffic here and my blog becomes the bible of drunk college kids everywhere. (Man that's a scary thought.) And if that's the case then I better get rid of that dead body in my trunk in a hurry, because I don't think that would reflect very kindly on me when I attain sainthood for inventing rocket skates totally powered by moldy noodles and apple cores... (But keep that whole body thing on the DL)

But seriously folks, sometimes mother nature gives you a Cosby sweater with pink and purple sleeves, and sometimes she just kicks you in the shins and runs away. (For the love of god don't ask where that came from, I'd be unable to tell you.)

But, in the immortal words of Dan Connor "The only things you have to say you're going to do are the things that you have no intention of doing." And he ain't talkin no jive.

Basically, I've talked in complete gibberish for the extent of this entry because life is boring at the moment and I have nothing else to tell you... As Flava Flav once said, "Mackadocious!"

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QOTD (Sorgatz and I were having an argument over which of us was the bigger asshole earlier in the evening... I think I won.)
11.10.04 -
Alana: "Aww, Sorgatz... aside from your man-hands, I think you're absolutely perfect!"
Ben: "Sorgatz, if it makes you feel any better I don't think you have man-hands."
Liz: "Yeah, and Sorgatz, and if it makes you feel any better, I don't think you're perfect!"

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