Twitter Updates for 2010-09-01

  • Irish punk is the best way to start the day. That and coffee. Which I wish was irish. Heh. #

Oh, so true

A man, a shovel, and some fucking sand

“What did you do this weekend?”

“It involved a shovel and a bunch of heavy sand.”

“Building a huge sand castle?”

“Ha ha, very funny… and by the way, eat shit.”

Twitter Updates for 2010-08-28

  • "…because she is two thousand light years away." Yeah, that's it. Right there. #

Another great RSA piece… Dan Pink on Motivation

The New Market

Twitter Updates for 2010-08-25

  • Gatorade and vodka is surprisingly decent. The saltiness of the gatorade blends nicely with the bite of alcohol, with a sweet aftertaste. #
  • Thankfully not paying for it today. It was my "why not celebrate monday" drink. And I was out of pretty much everything else. #

Twitter Updates for 2010-08-21

  • Fun fact: Gonzo's penis is a mirror image of his nose. #obscenelyruiningnostalgia #
  • Fun fact: Kermit's fingers always smell like bacon the morning after. #obscenelyruiningnostalgia #
  • The tragedy of Beeker: he only loved Professor Honeydew, and he was always fried in return. #

Twitter Updates for 2010-08-13

  • netflix just fucking ate it. #
  • Instant streaming for netflix is still down. site keeps bouncing. #
  • Being sick in the summer sucks. More so than usual. #

Itsnot fair

No I am not missing a space between its and not. Itsnot fair.

Like at all.

I was just sick a month ago. And now I am sick again. Because honestly, if this is an allergy flare-up, then my allergies can go riproarin off and fuck themselves. My head is literally full of snot. Sinuses, Ears, Throat, Nose, probably my eyeballs, and I am pretty sure my brain is in there too.

If I were to die this very instant, the coroner would have fun trying to explain to my wife how he found mucus surrounding every part of my neural tissue. All of the neurons coated in a fine layer of slime. And how, as he removed my brain to weigh it, the pressure from all the snot caused a small explosion that flung him against the wall, brain in hand, and broke his collarbone by the sheer force of hitting the wall. And as, he clutched the brain to his chest, and grabs at his screaming shoulder, a massive fount of grossness spews from my head, covering all his utensils, equipment, and shorting out his recorder. To say the least, he goes into post traumatic shock a few moments later from the experience and decides to move to Guatemala to farm lady bugs for the local monkey population.

Yeah, I am not kidding. Guatemala.