Body issues
My left arm seems much weaker than my right. Due to dominance reasons, not masturbatory reasons.
My left arm seems much weaker than my right. Due to dominance reasons, not masturbatory reasons.
“…there wasn’t oral.
Just like.
Apparently dissapointing handjobs maybe.”
Just finished a turkey sandwich. My first draft of this post was “eating a turkey sandwich”, but I finished it in the time it took to open this shit.
More and more I don’t think “bitch” is/should be an offensive word.
I wouldn’t call anybody that ever.
But like, yeah, you know? I’ll use that shit when talking to myself like, 15 times an hour and not even fucking flinch.
Today I found out a person who I thought I was friedns with doesn’t like me.
Shiiit fuck. That’s a real crap sandwich.
This isn’t even funny shit. I guess I just have a negative attraction to other people.
So like, yeah. Just did my weekly jogging thing. I’m a huge douchebag.
Anyways.
First.
I did the thing I do in three less minuets. And that includes time where I literally stopped moving forward to check on this weird-ass fucking foot feeling. Like, it was like, fucking numb like it was asleep, fucking regionalized narcolepsy or some shit because when it is literally half of what is propelling me forward at an above average rate, that is like, the fucking worst time to just give up, you know, feeling shit.
and like, I had no idea what was going on or whatever. but I kept jogging because fuck it, if it has to get amputated, I guess that’s it’s own fault for slacking during the only job it has.
Second.
Shit I guess I thought there would be three.
After I jog, when I splash water on my face, basically what I always do is splash water until I stop tasting salt. Like, god dam, I don’t sweat that much, but apparently when I do it’s super concetrated fucking salt-flats type shit. Like, if there are bugs on my face, which there definately are, because it’s not some like, sterile chamber or anything, then they could harvest salt off my face like it’s one of those seawater flats coastal people use. That porcupine from Rageweed that loves salt would love to get busy all over my face. shit.
So yeah.
Here’s a shorter post for the time busy:
Q: Why are goosebumps called goosebumps?
A: Nobody knows.
You can’t figure out shit in a dream. Nothing makes sense and you go along with it.
During last nights dream, there was a drive-by at a McDonalds and I ducked under a table and I felt like a fool because nobody else was. Right before that, a guy walked into McDonalds carrying two babies and dropped a handgun into a trashcan outside and I said nothing.
What the fuck.
And most of my dream wasn’t even at McDonalds. Holy fucking shit. Fucking dreams. These aren’t as bad as nightmares, but still, why.
Always advocate antidumping.
[My name would presumably go here]
Reverse Inventor
This one time at Wal-Mart I was looking at Legos (and this was not several years ago, I am a lego product admierer)
And this old guy came up to me! And he told me about a think he built! And he was probably trying to pick me up!!!! Fuck fucking fuck shit. I told on that bitch-ass.
Fuck fuck fucking shit. It just had to be me. Atleast I could defend myself n’ shit. Level 50 stab-dude right here.
This is so awkward, guy. Come on. Chill out and get some tacos or something.
Fuck fuck fuck. This story sucks shit. Fuck.
It’s a hard world out there for your Facebook status joke about the American Psychological Association method for source citations.
This story is both fucked up and fucking stupid.
So I have a splinter. Because I was handling some unpaitned wood, because some asshole is allergic to colors. And so I need to take a shit, so I figure i’ll combine these two activities, one of which requires little concentration, and the other a lot.
So I am like, shitting, and working on the splinter. I like, fucking get a good grip on the splinter, while I’m like, sucessfully in the process of actually expeling excrement external to my butt. So like, just as my shit breaks the tranquil surface of my toilet water, I am pulling out the splinter, and just as it gets removed, a bunch of toilet water like, fucking backflips out of the bowl and hones onto my hand.
And for the first time in my life, the absolutely shittyness of what just happened, and the total radness of another thing that just happened, combined and cancled each other out and for a split second, I felt completely neutral emotions.
The one time I could use the quote function that nobody uses on tumblr, I forget to use it.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”
-Charles Dickens
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSrqCfTgHHI
The new generation of Youtube commenters:
“hell yea m’BALLZ”
“Dustin Wong sucks! I saw him at UFO arcade and I got done with a match at Einstein’s. His possy is a bunch of L33t Nerds and a Chick with Wild Style Hair. Tuner Magazines for 4.99 Special Offer.”
I had this whole thing I thought about yesterday about like, horses. I’ll tell it anyways.
If I ever become a medieval king, I will own a stable with a bunch of cows.
And I will sit in my throne rooms to do my kingly duties, and a bunch of crazy messengers will walk into my room to deliver crazy news.
And I’ll be like, “Boy, I ain’t seen bullshit like this since the last time I was around my many cows. Which, incidentally, was not too long ago.”
That will be how I get my kicks as the king. Fuck feasts. Fuck jousting. Fuck jesters. All I need is my stable and a steady stream of couriers.
Last night I was writing a paper. And now it is due in 4 minutes and last night I used this weird word and I wasn’t sure wat it meant and I figured I would look it up the next day to make sure it doesn’t mean crfazy shit.
But now I’m proofreading it.
And I CAN”T FIND IT. This paper will make me look like a crazy asshole of some sort I guess.
