Dec 29 2009
I’m going to try and write something real tomorrow but these fucking holidays are killing me! I’m so popular that EVERYONE wants me at their party. I never get a free moment to just sit and watch People’s Court anymore. I’m also moving in a couple weeks, so that’s sucking my ass too.
To make it up to you, I will share my favorite song about Canada.
Dec 24 2009
It’s 2:43 am and I simply have nothing to complain about right now. I just got home from a night of drinks with old friends and for once I’m in a good mood. I guess Listy is getting soft, and for this I apologize.
I hope you all have a great Holiday, thanks for listening to my bullshit. Except Guy Fieri, I hope his Christmas sucks major ass and is not at all “money.”
Dec 23 2009
I quit. I will never try to do anything again.
I found out last week, thanks to a hard-hitting article on Yahoo, that apples are bad for me. Yeah, that’s right, fucking APPLES are going to kill me. Why do I even bother getting out of bed in the morning?
Apparently apples are covered in pesticides and washing them does next to nothing to remedy that little problem. The pesticides are designed to stick to the fruit in the rain, so you have to either peel your apple or wash it in some hippie fruit cleaner to make it safe to eat. Fuck that, I’m going to fill my fat face hole with pork rinds until I die.
Why do any of us bother to do anything? You just can’t win in a world where apples are bad for you and Wild Hogs is a successful movie. Guy Fieri walks the earth with his God damn sunglasses on the back of his fat neck but John Lennon is dead? We live in a world where apples will poison you and the Kardashians are rich and famous!
I’m going to kill myself. I’ll start by eating some apples.
Dec 22 2009
Assholes.
Look at me! Look at me! I am desperate to be noticed! MY ONLY GOAL IN LIFE IS TO BE ON THE NEWS! I’m swimming in the winter, can you believe how crazy I am? Love me. WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME DADDY?!?
These are the same kind of attention hogs that ride around on tall bikes, propose marriage in wacky ways and get married in some bullshit underwater wedding. You may think I am simply against fun. You are an idiot. I like fun, but swimming in a frozen lake in the middle of winter and having your cock and balls retreat into your body, never to be seen again, is literally the exact opposite of fun.
Guess what? POLAR BEARS don’t even want to swim around in some godforsaken frozen ocean for 6 hours looking for some dumb fish to eat. It is a well documented fact that the suicide rate among polar bears is the second highest in the animal kingdom. Obviously the number one slot goes to Guy Fieri’s tapeworms.
BREAKING NEWS:
Forget everything I just said, polar bear clubs are awesome!
Dec 18 2009
Some of you have asked if my recent absence from the site and selling of all my possessions is related to my impending suicide. The answer to that question used to be no, but now that I am aware that laser guided scissors exist… It’s hard to say. In fact, I might even buy one of these useless pieces of shit and aim that laser right over my wrists. It would truly be fitting that the object that makes me want to kill myself is the item that actually does the killing.
Can we make a rule? When mankind has figured out how to end, or even reduce, world hunger and global warming, THEN and only then can we stick lasers to scissors and crayons and forks and whatever the fuck we want to. Until then, lasers can only be used for levels, Pink Floyd laser shows and to aim tasers at shirtless drunks on COPS. All you scrapbookers are out of luck until then.
And guess what motherfucker, your laser-guided space scissors aren’t going to do shit! Think about it, the laser is supposed to offer a guide for you to follow. If your stupid laser is attached to your stupid scissors, every time you move your stupid scissors your stupid laser moves too, stupid. Imagine if the lines in the road were attached to your car, in your mind you would always be driving right down the middle of the road.
Why am I the smartest person in the world?
Dec 17 2009
I suck. I just can’t get my shit together this week. I’m moving soon and in the process of selling or giving away a ton of shit. I gave away 70% of my record collection this morning. That sucked. I will try to write something new tomorrow, I know your life depends on it.
Dec 15 2009
Sweet Jesus, can’t you tell from the pained look on my face and the way I’m touching my nose that you have a booger hanging by a thread in your nostril? Oh God, please, I’m begging you with all my mind power to shoot it out with a hardy nose laugh. PLEASE let me just pick it! ANYTHING TO END THIS PAIN!
I’m not sure there is anything that makes me more uncomfortable than having a conversation while a little booger mocks me from the outer limits of its established universe. If someone was to start pooping on the floor in the middle of a conversation with me, I don’t think it would make me feel as uneasy as some dried-up booger flapping around in the wind.
Why are those tiny boogers so mesmerizing? I feel like my eyes are attached to them by a wire when I see one. I want to look away but I find it physically impossible. Maybe if I stare at it hard enough I can make it explode into booger dust.
Everything you never wanted to know about the word booger, explained by a mail-order Russian bride who thinks she is hotter than she is. I hate the internet.
