213-DU WERDEST EINE KRANKENSCHWESTER BRAUCHEN

Remember Me As I Am....Filled With Murderous Rage.

It is far too nice out today to not do something. I'm going for a walk at the very least and highly encourage everybody to do something in the sun.

I guess the one good thing about having so much crappy weather is that you'll appreciate nice days so much more.

When Will Jesus Bring The Porkchops?

Rain is now number one of my long list of enemies.

Oh and for anybody who happens to live in the Chester St-Margret's area, you should vote for Rick Fraughton and tell all your friends, coworkers and family to do the same. He'd be great at it as he is very intelligent and hardworking. He's also my uncle, but it's by marriage so you don't need to be worried that he's anything like me.

It's a Fucking Gazeebo

You know something, I never have any idea what the hell women are thinking. Ever, ever. Not that this is really surprising to me but it is just the sort of thing that is reafirmed on a regular basis.

Take for example the fact that a girl downtown gives me a look. Quite honestly I never seem to know what she's thinking. I could be that "That guys hot, hope he dances with me." Or it could just as easily be "Fuck I hope that guy gets no closer or else I will mace him." I never know.

That's from girls I don't even know. From girls I do know though it never seems any better.

There will be a girl who likes me who is sweet and attractive, but I'll never know and then I'll wait to long and they'll loose interest. Or the opposite there will be a girl that I know who has no interest whatsoever and that will be the one I pursue.

Maybe the whole point is that I make poor dicisions. That's probably it really. My whole life does seem to be guided by one poor choice after another. Maybe someday I'll learn. Or die, and that's probably the more likely case. And probably the better one for all concerned.

Though there is one other point that also seems reafirmed just as often is that there are a ton of incredible hot girls downtown, yet I don't really seem to want a ton. Just one, why is that? I'm probably crazy, or angry, angry for coin. Or maybe I just know I can't get a ton, so I only want to settle for one. Or maybe I'm just gassy. It happens to guys my age.

In any case, there's really no argument about the fact that I'm an idiot. And if you do argue, then you really have no idea who I am, so don't or risk showing your incompetence.

I need to be awake in 3 hours, I thought I had all tomorrow to laze around. Don't you just hate it when that happens? Especially when you're lazy.

And yet....

ie.... Amanda, not there so. So it doesn't really matter. Nor do I matter.

So there's no reason, compromise. and nothing else is there. Good luck.

I Attack The Darkness

There's just something about drinking beer and playing the new System CD that makes me want to break something. Of course there are lots of things that have the same effect including but not limited to, customers at the Superstore, slow drivers, the French and people who cough a little too loudly.

Hey there's a button that publishes your blog automatically, news to me.

So anyway I feel life fighting now, but since I can't I'll do some writing as the two do rhyme and it'a about the best I can do... for now.

Speaking of fighting, here's a story not everybody would know. A few weeks ago at the Dome, or Attic to be more precise, I nearly got into a fight. Some might remember that as the night that was supposed to be Colin's going away party, personally I don't remember the night as much of anything at all. Anyway so I'm at the Attic, blankout, blankout, I'm outside squaring off with a guy and possibly his three friends. Now nobody knows how it started, but essentially I spent an entire hour almost getting into a fight with a guy, with insults being thrown in both directions. And Josh, being the wonderful guy he is, even kept getting involved and making fun of the guy too just to try and get it all started, god bless him.

Nothing happened, and I have no idea if I started it or not but Josh's theory is that him and his three friends were going to try and beat me up or something until they found out that I had three friends with me. Not that it really mattered, I was pretty sure I could take all four, apparently, I even told the four guys so.

And that leads to another question, how the hell is it I've never been in a real fight yet? I mean I've gone downtown and been plastered to the point of blackouts numerous times, I've been thrown in the drunk tank once and nearly thrown in other times and just generally I'm a huge jerk that rightfully deserves to be punched out pretty much all the time, let alone when I'm drunk and even more obnoxious then usual. Are people just afraid to try something or do I just seem too pathetic to even be worth a punch or what? I don't get it, I can think of several situations where I deserved to be hit right off the top of my head. Maybe I'm just insanely lucky when it comes to physical harm.

That might be it, because just look at all the things I've participated in. Hockey, Soccer, Baseball, Soccer, Track and Field, Basketball, Football, Rugby, Wrestling, Martial Arts, Lacrosse, Fencing, Kendo, Gymnastics. And that's not even including my general screwing around with play fighting, wrestling, jumping out of trees and all that or all my drunken antics like nearly jumping into the Citital Hill moat or finding myself nearly speared at the end of a fence of teaching all those parking meters a lesson they won't soon forget. And the worst I've ever suffered is a sprained ankle. that's it, no broken bones, torn muscles, ligaments ect ect. Hell even when I've been hospitalized for Asthma I actually confused the hell out of the doctors by having stronger lungs then a normal person my age not suffering an asthma.

There's only once logical explanation, I am either a god, or watched over by a god. That's it, that's the only thing that makes any sense. I'm not lucky in everything but my body is definately preserved by some sort of force be it mine or some others. I know tons of people who are way more careful with their own life then I am who have suffered far more greivous injuries then I ever have. So maybe that's it, since I don't care if I get hurt, I don't get hurt. This sounds exactly why I should become a dare devil, or mabe even Daredevil. Though I'd rather be Batman.

Batman's a scientist.

And he could kick Superman's ass. Yes, that's right Alica, he could kick Superman's wimpy, boyscout, sissy little ass.

Superman, why the hell is he so super anyway? I mean he's a afraid of a little rock that's valuable and rare, so is every other guy on the planet just for slightly different reasons. One can end a life and the other can END a life. Nothing super about that guy.

So something that's going to be done here sometime soon, the next 168. Oh yes, it will be done, before Andy leaves, because he missed the last grand event. And Ben can't afford to have any more cops show up at his house. The big baby.

And another thing, bad video game turned movie night. We'll get them all, Mario Brothers, Double Dragon, Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat 2, Anhiliation, all the greats. Truely it will be a time to get togeter and wonder what the hell was Hollywood thinking. I mean seriously, WHAT...THE...HELL...WAS...HOLLYWOOD THINKING!?

In either case, should be good times had by anybody who attends. And everybody should! Of course this message is limited to the people who are interested in my rantings and ravings. But I already know, so....damn. I need to get more mainstream. Actually mainstream is too far to shoot for, how about a little side stream then. You know, the kind you might have dammed up when you were a kid, that just trickled through the ground. I'll bet I could at least get there.

You wake up in Albuquerque...

Hopefully...

So will somebody please write my resume? Please? If you do I can get a new job, stop complaining about this one, and have enough money to buy drinks for everybody, doesn't that sound like a great idea? Why the hell can't I write one!? It's been months now and I still can't do it. It's like I have writers block, only instead of the usual essay block, I actually have Alpha Centari standing in my way. I'm not Goku damnit I can't blow up a Galaxy. How can it be possible that I can write a 12 page paper about how German's were portrayed in pre and post World War 1 occurance British newspapers and yet not be able to write a short peice of paper about myself? Maybe I'm just not all that interesting, that could be it, I mean I don't even think of myself as interesting enough to talk about. Seriously, though people may not have noticed it, in any conversation I usually give the bare minimum of details about myself and then start asking questions of the other person. Wow, I guess I am boring.

And speaking of that, if you've actually read everything so far, you win a cookie!

(Cookies will not be honoured. Unless they are, in which case they will be the awesome cookies from the Superstore, you know the ones. Damn those are awesome. But that will be purely coinsidental.)

Curtis

Little Know Know It All

You'd think I would be right. Just once. By accident even. But no, it just doesn't happen. So at least I've got my good looks and charisma to get me by.





















HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH




Curtis.

If You're A Criminal, The Best Way To Be Is "At Large."

Well all I can say is that thank god borderline plagarism isn't plagarism.

Why Do They Bother Saying "Raw Sewage"? Does Some People Actually Cook That Stuff?

I swear if one more person gets engaged pregnant or married before I even have a real job I'm going to break something.

Why do women have boobs? So men have somthing to look at when they're talking to them.

You know what's weird? The fact that anybody anywhere likes me. I mean when you think about it I'm pretty much a sarcastic jerk all the time with minimal redeeming qualities yet some people still seem to want to hang around with me of their own free will. I'm seriously starting to suspect there's an unhealthy masochistic fetish sweeping the nation because knowing me is just one long experience of insults and sarcism with nothing else thrown in to brighten it.

A conversation with me will most likely contain one or more requests that you die, preferably in a terribly painful way. You'll get numerous comments that you're ugly, stupid, annoying, not worth the air you breath nor the skin attached to your body ect ect. What is up with that?

I think it might have to do with the fact that no matter how nice or mean I am, people tend to think a set thing about me. Certainly there are exceptions, but for the most part I've noticed that in the rare occasion I'm exceptional nice and considerate to somebody, they tend to not think any better of me then somebody who if I say two words to them it will be "Go die". I wonder why that is?

I think people are just crazy personally, that's just me though.

Lois: You're drunk again.
Peter: No, I'm just exhausted 'cause I've been up all night drinking.

A new Family Guy was on tonight. All is right in the universe.