May 2004
05302K4
Finally got all that shit sorted out and went to get my car yesterday. Clay, Terry, Ben and I piled into Ben's mom's Explorer Sport Track and hauled ass over to Wal-Mart, where we stocked up on pre-made sandwiches, sodas and junk food. They tried to bust us for stealing mayonaise packets, and Clay threw up in the parking lot after taking a sip of their "lemon nectar fizz" shit. From there, we began our journey to Venice Beach, where Ben promptly began his cutting-off spree, getting a good percentage of central Florida motorists less than happy with us. He continued this until we got on the Turnpike. That's where we saw this dude:
One of the few people we didn't try to run off the road.
At about two hours into the trip our boredom turned into excitement when we saw we were nearing our destination.
Heh...Fruitville.
We finally got into Venice after taking some bad directions from MapQuest and went about ten miles in the wrong direction on the Tamiami Trail. We asked some pregnant lady and her friend where the hell the street was that we were looking for and she laughed at us and told us to go the other way. After taking her advice, cutting more people off and almost rear-ending some old lady, we found the car.
Terry didn't feel the need to get a shot of the whole car.
Clay and I took it for a test drive, checked under the hood, asked some questions and burned some rubber.
Clay behind the wheel of the fastest car he's ever driven.
Everything checked out alright, so I handed over the cash, got the title and we got out of there and headed towards Terry's rich dad's expensive house. We found a closed security gate with no sign of life, so we decided to try his dad's liquor store. That's when the battery didn't seem to want to start the car. Fortunately a couple of few-toothed rednecks stopped and gave us a jump. We went to Auto Zone and got the alternator checked out. Everything was fine. So, we went to the liquor store and Terry's dad wasn't there, so we tried his house again. Terry, being a bit more mold this time around, went through the gate and found his father and grandmother, who he hasn't seen in six years or so. Clay, Ben and I left him there and went cruising.
We found a few ricers who didn't want any, and one supercharged Cobra that did. That's when we noticed that the turbo didn't want to build any boost because it had a vacuum leak. We pulled into a giant Wal-Mart parking lot and, after fiddling with all the hoses, got the thing to work again. Everywhere we stopped during this trip I'd get at least two people saying "nice car," even when it was apparent that it wasn't working correctly. Hell yeah.
We picked up Terry and began to make our way to Tampa to find a motel. That's when the car stalled and didn't want to start up again. After calling a few people, Clay and Terry getting engine grease all over eachother, ants attacking and sandwiches going bad, we got a new battery and decided to just go home that night.
On the way back that car kicked everything's ass, with the exception of one 12-second Mustang. Everything else got their ass handed to them effortlessly. Ben and I went home while Clay and Terry took it to downtime Orlando. They beat a Honda S2000, some Porche, Camaro SS, Formula 1 Trans Am and a Corvette C5. No one else wanted any.
More pictures:
This morning, parked in my front yard.
Another angle.
My Camaro is sad because it knows it has been replaced. :(
Went inside to get my keys and figured I'd take a picture of these, too.
>:[
The heart of the beast.
This is a pretty backseat.
Sitting at my place after cruising for a few hours.
My brake light.
05252K4
I hate when I have two or more friends who don't like eachother, or one doesn't like the other but doesn't act like it around them. I hate all that passive-agressive bullshit. Grow some balls and put your cards on the fucking table already. Right now I'm talking about the arrangements to go pick up my Grand National this weekend. The original plan was just to get someone to take me down there, and I'd drive it back up. I was going to have Clay drive me down there. Then Terry told him that his rich dad lives down there and owns a liquor store, so if he went with us we could get some free booze. So, we had the idea of the three of us going down there and meeting up with Clay's fuckbuddy and her friend and spending the weekend on the beach.
Then my grandmother said she wants to take me down there and she'll bring my aunt or someone to drive the car back because she doesn't think I can handle the "heavy traffic." What the fuck? So, I convinced her that I could have one of the guys drive it back for me, which turned out alright because she wanted to go out of town this weekend, anyway. So, that meant I needed one extra person to go to at least make it look convincing. Living under someone's roof you have to make it at least appear that you're following their rules, and she knows that Terry can't drive. So, I had the idea of Heath driving the four of us down there in his Nissan Sentra, as opposed to Clay's cramped Chevy S-10, and I asked Heath if his car would be out of the shop by then. No problem. I told Clay about it, and suddenly he has a problem with Heath that I didn't know about. So, great, I have to blow Heath off and get him pissed. Then Clay informs me that he doesn't give a shit about me getting my car and just wants to go down there to fuck his girl and get free booze from Terry's dad, and that he'll be going anyway. Wow, I've got some awesome friends! So I can't go down there with Heath alone because I need one extra person with me, and everyone else I know is busy this weekend. Clay's going down there to fuck some chick and get loaded, not to pick up my car, and even if he were, I'd still need an extra person. Shipping costs rougly $500 and I wouldn't have it until the end of next week. Awesome.
I really hate soap operas, especially when they make things more difficult for me. But everyone else seems to love drama, so here's a load for you which even I think is pretty entertaining now that it's all over with:
From late January to last Sunday I had two room-mates. The first one (Terry) was kicked out of his house at gunpoint by his crazy mother and showed up at my place with nothing but the clothes on his back. Doesn't have a job or a car, but he doesn't make a mess, doesn't each much and mostly just sleeps on the couch all day. No problem. He eventually got all his clothes and most of his belongings back from his mother.
A few weeks later a mutual friend (Albert) asks for a place to stay. He has a job, goes to nightschool, has a girlfriend who drives him around and will be out of the house most of the time. At the time, no problem. He had a story that had something to do with his father's life insurance going to his mother, so his mother wanted him out of the house. Or something. Didn't make much sense, but it wasn't really an issue.
Two weeks later Albert quits his job. No real reason, other than "they were probably going to fire me, anyway."
Some facts I had already known about Albert, mostly from other mutual friends, which I deemed irrelevant and uninteresting at the time:
This is his second time being with his current girlfriend. Before, they broke up because he cheated on her. They're back together because she apparently hangs on to him like her life depends on it. That's just my view, anyway.
Albert and my friend Heath were once good friends, and now aren't because Heath warned Caitlin (Albert's girlfriend) when they got together again that Albert wouldn't be able to stay faithful because he's a liar and a womanizing bastard. This actually turned everyone against Heath, because everyone (with the exception of myself, since, as I mentioned before, I found all this irrelevant and uninteresting) sympathized with Albert, and thought of him as a completely honest and stand-up guy.
Albert has this "long time friend" of his, who happens to be a female, and happens to look like a man. I thought she was a he when I first met her. She came around from time to time. Albert said she had a crush on him and he had to constantly turn her down.
At first, even after Albert quit his job, everything was fine. His girlfriend bought us dishes, he and Terry cleaned the room...once (but it did look nice) and he and Terry went to his girlfriend's house to do their laundry, so I didn't have a mountain of dirty clothes in my house. Then things started going awry.
Every morning when I woke up, Albert's girlfriend would be sleeping or pretending to be sleeping on the couch in my room with him. I sleep in my boxers, and they're usually bunched up and half-off with the way I roll around in my sleep so much. It's my house. I shouldn't have to cover up every morning because some chick comes over uninvited every morning, so I don't. Then I go out into the main part of my room and there's McDonald's bags and wrappers everywhere because she brings him breakfast every morning. I come home from work and they're still there. Terry's side of the room is somewhat free of trash, and Albert's is looking like a trash dump. So at this point every day I'm coming home, cleaning up his shit and telling him to start throwing his trash away. He just ignores me.
A week goes by and the dishes aren't being washed. I tell Albert to wash them over and over, and he ignores me. So, Terry does them. Another week goes by. Albert still ignores. I tell Terry not to do them. In the meantime there is trash and shit all over Albert's side of the room. And some day during this two week period, I wake up about 6:00 am to the sounds of sucking and moaning. Yes, Albert and his girlfriend have the collective testicular fortitude to have a BJ session in my bedroom while I'm there. Being as tired as I was, I wasn't exactly thinking rationally and I searched with my hand under my bed to find something to throw. I found a 25-pound dumbell, which probably would have killed one of them if I hit them like I was intending to, but I was too tired to lift it so I tried to go back to sleep.
When I woke up again around 8 I wasn't too bothered by it anymore. But I was bothered by the piles of trash in my room, the dirty dishes and the roaches that were starting to come in. I didn't want to kick the guy out on the street, but at the same time I didn't want this shit in my house. So, I told Terry that I was thinking about kicking Albert out. As expected, Terry told Albert and Albert appeared to start to get his shit together. He cleaned up the trash and folded all the blankets and shit that were all over my bedroom. But, the dishes still weren't done, and even though he cleaned up the trash, he didn't appear to have any problem with leaving more of it there in its place.
And then one day Terry and my brother Josh were gone to the mall for a LAN party. Albert and I stayed behind. I was in my bedroom, sitting on my bed and playing my bass. I hear a knock at the door, and then I hear the voice of the man chick. I kept playing and I heard the soft murmur of them talking, muted by the partition in my room and my bass over my practice amp. After a while I noticed they stopped talking. Then, I heard breathing, and to be able to hear breathing over my amp and past the partition, it had to have been pretty heavy breathing. So, I turned the gain on my amp all the way up so the air from my fan would hit the strings and it would sound as if I were at least still holding the bass. I walked slowly out of my bedroom and saw Albert on top of the man chick, making out and getting ugly all over my couch. I had a camera right next to me. I could have snapped a shot, but I didn't think about it. Instead, I walked over to the kitchen, grabbed a dew out of the fridge and walked back into my bedroom like I didn't notice anything. I hear a *gasp,* followed by what sounds like the fastening of a belt buckle, and then footsteps. Albert ran in and started whispering, saying that it was starting to get "freaky" because the man chick was "starting to touch" him, and that I needed to tell him to clean the room so that she would leave. Wow. This guy thinks I'm a fucking idiot.
I humored him, and the man chick left. Then I turned to Albert and asked, "So, are you two fucking yet, or was this just a spur of the moment kind of thing?" He laughed and said "Shut up man, that's nasty." I felt like putting his head through the wall, but I didn't do or say anything. I asked him again to do the dishes. He said he'd do them, but he called his girlfriend and left.
And all the while of his stay, he's entertaining us with tales of Gordon and his seemingly abusive, lying and thieving girlfriend, and how Gordon was shutting himself off from his friends because his girlfriend told him to. That, and a few other things I've forgotton.
A few days later I was talking to Jason over AIM and Jason said that Terry needs to get a job. I said Albert needs to get a job, too. Here's the AIM log:
(at first we're talking about HL2 and CS2)
o0 SandmaN 0o: yeah when I get that shit terry's gonna have to get his own damn computer
Evilcrow AMD64: there ya go
Evilcrow AMD64: he needs to get a fucking job anyways
Evilcrow AMD64: maybe if u start using the computer he will get bored
Evilcrow AMD64: and try
Evilcrow AMD64: apparently hes avoiding the army recruiter now
o0 SandmaN 0o: I guess
o0 SandmaN 0o: albert needs to get a damn job too
Evilcrow AMD64: thought he was still workin 2 days a week at office max
o0 SandmaN 0o: no he quit
Evilcrow AMD64: when?
o0 SandmaN 0o: like a month ago I think
Evilcrow AMD64: wow
Evilcrow AMD64: fuckin liar
o0 SandmaN 0o: he thinks I'm stupid
o0 SandmaN 0o: kicking him out next week
Evilcrow AMD64: that means he was lyin to me bout gordon too probably
o0 SandmaN 0o: tired of picking up after him. leaves trash everywhere. has a pile of towels in the bathroom. asked him to wash the dishes like 12 times and he still hasn't done it - after two weeks. got a bj in my room when he thought I was asleep (though I was too tired to get up or really say anything). getting tired of his girlfriend hanging around in the mornings, especially in my room. made out with an ugly chick on my couch and lied about it even though I fucking walked in on them
Evilcrow AMD64: that one ugly chick he says is his long time friend
Evilcrow AMD64: wow, i hate to say it heath was right
Evilcrow AMD64: like 100%
Evilcrow AMD64: atleast heath is honest.... brutally asshole honest
Evilcrow AMD64: he tried to warn caitlin about bert before they got together
Evilcrow AMD64: and bert flipped out on him for it
Evilcrow AMD64: see, bein here i miss out on all that shit anjd he can lie to me without worryin about it
o0 SandmaN 0o: yeah...this chick looks like a guy. I thought she was a guy when I first saw her. caitlin is hot. what the fuck.
Evilcrow AMD64: and she fucking comes to take him to school
Evilcrow AMD64: i mean comon, shes gotta get up earlier for his ass
o0 SandmaN 0o: buys him food everyday. bought us dishes. hangs out with him all the time
Evilcrow AMD64: that is totally weak
o0 SandmaN 0o: she calls like every 15 fucking minutes but still, he's hotter than the ugly bitch
o0 SandmaN 0o: err..she
Evilcrow AMD64: LOL
Evilcrow AMD64: well even he is hotter than her
Evilcrow AMD64: i saw her when i was there
Evilcrow AMD64: thats the chick he bet clay $10 to get her number
Evilcrow AMD64: and he couldnt do it
Evilcrow AMD64: cuz she started touchin him in the back of my moms car
Evilcrow AMD64: and he freaked out lol
o0 SandmaN 0o: I should have taken a picture. they didn't notice I was in the room until I got something from the fridge. I didn't say anything until later, then he acted like I was joking.
Evilcrow AMD64: dude did terry really stop playin FFXI??
o0 SandmaN 0o: yeah
Evilcrow AMD64: ok
o0 SandmaN 0o: he said he got bored of it
(Actually, I found out that Terry had just temporarily stopped playing because he was busy trying to build up the CS team for our clan. Albert told Jason Terry said he stopped playing, then Albert told Terry Jason logged onto his account, saw that he wasn't leveling much and got "super pissed" and canceled it.)
Evilcrow AMD64: as long as i didnt delete his account for berts lying
Evilcrow AMD64: im not gonna pay $14 a month extra if hes not gonna play
o0 SandmaN 0o: he should've told you
Evilcrow AMD64: yeh
Evilcrow AMD64: cuz im gonna get charged on the 1st
Evilcrow AMD64: cuz he didnt tell me when he quit
o0 SandmaN 0o: so I told terry I was *thinking* about kicking albert out
o0 SandmaN 0o: terry told him like I figured he would, then albert cleaned up my room
o0 SandmaN 0o: I wanted the dishes washed, but that was fine too
o0 SandmaN 0o: well it was clean for about 2 days anyway, but still better than what it was
Evilcrow AMD64: pwned
Evilcrow AMD64: does terry atleast do stuff?
o0 SandmaN 0o: terry does whatever I tell him to do, but he doesn't do much because I don't tell him to do much
Evilcrow AMD64: bert fucking told me that he washes the dishes all the time and terry doesnt do anything
Evilcrow AMD64: wow
o0 SandmaN 0o: without question or complaint
Evilcrow AMD64: what a piece of shit
Evilcrow AMD64: ok so now u see what hes tellin ppl too
Evilcrow AMD64: hes tellin ppl that he does everything
Evilcrow AMD64: shit, im gonna apologize to terry, i havent said anything bout him but im gonna say im sorry for beleiving bert about him
Evilcrow AMD64: atleast hes doin what u tell him to
o0 SandmaN 0o: everyday when I get home from work I gotta pick up all his trash because he's out with his girlfriend or something
Evilcrow AMD64: damn, cant believe that shit
o0 SandmaN 0o: I'm not going to touch the towels. I've just got my own stash of clean towels for me and terry
o0 SandmaN 0o: and I use the paper plates and plastic forks so I don't worry about the dishes
o0 SandmaN 0o: terry's kinda lazy but he'll do whatever I ask him to do
o0 SandmaN 0o: he even volunteered to mow the lawn
Evilcrow AMD64: see atleast hes doin shit
Evilcrow AMD64: fuck, what a fag
I showed this conversation to a few friends, and they all agreed with my view. I think someone told Albert, though, because that day he cleaned up all his trash and *started* to wash the dishes. Actually, he just poured drano in the sink and put all the dishes in a box for God knows what reason. Then he was talking about getting a job at the Subway down the street. So, then I figured I'd let him get the job. Then I'd start charing him rent, and I'd go harder on him about the dishes and the trash and whatnot, since, if someone did show him the convo, he knows I wouldn't hesitate any further to boot his ass out. But the next day my grandma called me up on my cell phone while I was at work. She saw the moldy pile of towels in the bath room, the dishes, the roaches, a bottle of vodka he left in the freezer, and some other shit and wanted him out that weekend. So, he came home the next night, and I told him about all that shit and how I was going to let him get the job, but my grandma wanted him out. He acted like he didn't even care, but he still went to Jason with a sob story of how I'm an asshole and how I kicked him out knowing he doesn't have anywhere else to go, even though he does all this work around the house. Of course Jason didn't sympathize with him, so he figured he wasn't fooling anyone, bit the bullet and on either Sunday or Saturday he had his mother there to pick up all his stuff, and he was moving back in with her.
I then found out that all the shit he told us about his mother was untrue, and now I'm about 80% sure he left on his own accord. I talked to Gordon that same day, and everything Albert said about him was 100% false. Heath was also there at my house the same day, visiting for a week after driving over from California. He called Caitlin and told her about all that shit with him and the man chick. She got pissed off and said everyone was against Albert. Haha.
So right now I'm a little happier than I've been in the past few months. My room still isn't very neat, but there's no trash. There's no pile of towels in the bathroom, and there's no ugly chick on my couch. Life is good, with the exception of the whole car thing.
05242K4
Ben tried to break my brain:
M3nt4L4pb: when we leaving?
o0 SandmaN 0o: huh?
M3nt4L4pb: hiuh?
o0 SandmaN 0o: leaving for what?
M3nt4L4pb: was talking to my sis cuz i'm to lazy to go out into the other room.
And he damn near succeeded.
05212K4
Going to lunch today I was almost in two accidents. People in the area do not know how to drive, so I've made the following list of guidelines to help you idiots along:
By Professor Sandman
You have these things on your car called brakes. You use these to slow down and stop. You do not use these to be certain that you are 3 mph below the speed limit at all times. You also do not use these in excess everytime you see or think you see a cop when you're already driving under the speed limit as it is, you stupid clods.
When you see a traffic light turn yellow, this indicates that the red light will turn on in about two or three seconds, and you should start slowing down if it's obvious you're not going to make it there in time, or speed up within reason so that you can. It does not mean tailgate the person in front of you, whom is already tailgating the person in front of them, whom is tailgating the person in front of them, and so-on. Contrary to popular belief, your vehicle and theirs do not bind together to form one vehicle when you tailgate them. You are running a red light and the person you're tailgating will most likely slow down once they've gone through the intersection. Not only does this put you, the people in front of you, and the other braindead fucks tailgateing you in danger, but it also pisses people off who are waiting at a green light for all you morons to get out of the way.
If you're in the passing lane, your object is to pass the vehicles that are keeping you from getting back into the right lane so that you may return to the right lane in a promptly manner, keeping that white Camaro behind you from driving straight up your ass. The passing lane is for passing. It is not for driving the same speed as the folks in the slow lane. Those who do not have their heads lodged firmly in their asses are tired of having to go in the right lane to pass you slow fuckers. Hit the gas or get out of the way.
On and off ramps sometimes end in these things called merging lanes. They are not called "slow to a complete stop, nervously and impulsively let on and off your brakes and finally go when there isn't another vehicle within a four mile radius lanes." The trick to these things is to - get this - drive as fast as or faster than the people on the highway. They will let you in, I promise. This will save you from getting your ass beat by the guy waiting impatiently behind you.
When a traffic light turns from red to green, guess what? It's time to go, motherfucker. Stop messing with your makeup, put down the sandwich, stop messing with stuff in the back of your truck and go already. I know you like to think that if you just take your foot off the brake your automatic transmission will get you going in plenty of time with its idle speed, but there are a few situations in life where you have to stop being an idiot and hit the goddamn accellerator. This is one of those situations. If you do this in the left lane, you're just asking for a brick through your back window. Don't be surprised when you hear the glass shatter. It was most likely the guy in the Camaro that just passed you in the right lane.
When someone about a car's length ahead of you has their turn signal on to indicate that they are going to be merging into your lane, don't speed up and try to block them. That will get your stupid ass run off the road, and possibly a brick through the window if they haven't already used it on some stupid fuck stopped at a green light a few miles back.
Most cops - especially on the highway - will allow up to five miles over the speed limit, or more if you're in the passing lane. I've gotten away with 70mph in a 45mph zone with a state trooper riding behind me in the passing lane. Stop slamming on your goddamn breaks. You stupid fucks are the reason I need new breaks every two months.
If you drive a shitty 18 second ricer, you don't need to be revving your engine up next to every car at red lights. You look stupid with the wing on the back of your car because everyone knows you couldn't hit 140 if your life depended on it, and your exhaust sounds like shit. You're not impressing anyone, and there is almost always too much traffic to be trying to race. Just take my word for it that I would win, and stop being a jackass.
Hopefully that will help you guys, and more importantly save me from getting killed by you retards. Buckle up and drive safely.
05202K4
I am now the pretentious owner of a beautiful 1986 Buick Grand National. Who wants to touch me?
I'm selling my 1987 Camaro LT. If anyone's interested and would like more info, let me know.
05172K4
Since the guys with the Jag are being assholes, I'm shifting my attentions to an extremely nice 1986 Buick Grand National. More news on that in three days...
I had the trippiest experience last night. I took a few sleeping pills because one doesn't do jack now and I started writing some stuff in my notebook. My hair was in front of my eyes and was brushing across the page, and it started looking like a jungle. Some tribal jungle music started playing in my head and I imagined the line that I was writing on as a street and all the letters as different buildings and people. It was like I was watching a gang warfare movie based in South Africa. I kept writing, and it was like I was adding elements to the story. Then I suddenly snapped out of it and looked at what I had written. It was some shit about positron emission tomography, which I know almost nothing about. Weirdest shit ever.
05132K4
Last night I went to sleep around 9pm because I was bored and woke up at 1:30am because my burdensome and largely useless roommates were making more noise than usual (I guess) and they had the lights on for some strange reason. That, and the sleeping pills I'm taking are now starting to have the opposite effect. So I got up, yelled a bunch and grabbed a Mountain Dew from the fridge. As soon as I took the first sip I felt noxious as hell, but I didn't get sick.
After sitting and looking menacing for a few hours I attempted to go back to sleep at 4:30am to no avail. I think I finally got to sleep around 7am and my alarm woke me up at 8am. I crawled out of bed, couldn't find my pants (I later realized I was wearing them), missed the "off" button on my fan half a dozen times, had a hard time figuring out how to work the shower and forgot to rinse my hair after putting my shitty shampoo in it. After I rubbed the shampoo in my already irritated and bloodshot eyes with the towel, I rinsed my hair and washed out my eyes. Then I somehow managed to spray some cologne in my right eye. I don't even use spray-on cologne. I washed my eye again and proceeded to finish getting dressed. It took me almost ten minutes to put on my socks.
I finally started to get my head together and got ready to go to work. I heard the pool guy outside doing something so I went out my back door to the pool. He was sandblasting and I walked into a cloud of shit. I went back inside to wash out my eyes yet again, but this time they refused to work correctly and I couldn't see shit, especially out of my right eye.
Right now I'm so damn tired. I just got off the phone with some lady asking what shipping company we use and I asked her for her order number and told her that her order was shipped out yesterday. She asked how to track the number again and once again I told her it had already been shipped out. Then I finally caught myself and blamed it on a bad connection. As I write this I'm misspelling at least two words per sentence. I start proofreading it and I lose my place. I keep recalling unrelated things from weeks ago and questioning the accuracy of my recollections. I ate half a box of chocolate Penguin mints when I got here. They taste like chalk when eaten like that. I'm starting to doubt that they have any caffeine in them. Or maybe they're starting to work. I don't know.
In other news, I finally made up my mind on my new axe and purchased this guitar. It's not quite as cool as the Mustaine signature ESP I wanted, but it's a lot cheaper, and almost as cool. It comes with EMG pickups and the deep cutaway for the higher frets is certainly a plus.
And with my newly acquired fundage I'll possibly be purchasing and fixing-up a Jaguar XJ12. The owners are hard to get ahold of, though. If I don't get that I'll just work on restoring my Camaro.
Damn, I'm tired.
05102K4
If you missed the sidemeat parody this weekend, you can find it here.
My domain was down yesterday and most of today, and probably will continue to be down throughout tomorrow. This time I won't forget to transfer it from networksolutions. Fuckers charged me $100 to renew it!
05062K4
I was multi-tasking like a Korean the other day with work stuff when I let my sub-conscious take over to give my lucid persona a break, even though it didn't need one because it's so badass. Then I got to thinking: man, I kick ass. Seriously. There should be some kind of law against kicking this much ass, because then I'd be kicking ass and breaking the law at the same time, which ups my ass-kickingness by at least 10%. During this time my ego masturbation was rudely interrupted by a salvo of instant messages from people who were speaking to me in a strange and most unsatisfactory manor. I countered this attack by shooting back with varied reminders of just how much ass I kick, and afterwards all seemed well. This odd occurrence could only mean one thing: people have started to forget about my perpetual discharge and application of overwhelming asskickery.
Consequently, I've been forced to continue the updates on this mecca of badass that is my personal site, so that oblivious, forgetful and just flat-out stupid people everywhere won't forget what you'd have to be damn near braindead to not acknowledge.
Bullshit aside, I was actually just bored, like always. This is the only thing I have to do that doesn't require more time than I have with which to do it. That, and I got tired of the emails, and apparently taking my email address off the site doesn't make them go away.