That blog that almost wasn't (and probably shouldn't)

It seems that someone up above didn't want me to write this blog, No not Gregor the crazy hobo that lives in the crawl space and feeds on insulation and rats, probably some one like god. I started writing this afternoon and the computer froze, when I finally convinced* it to work the power went out briefly and the computer shut down, sending the few feeble lines of my rant to float aimlessly through the unused portion of the internet along with all the forgotten porn. So finally now I am sitting down to write and hopefully nothing goes wrong... ...still nothing. whew, Nothing yet... still going strong. Alright that's enough. I know it's been a while since you have gotten your daily dose of Jon (about 3 cups sifted and blended with egg whites). And what has your patience earned you? probably some half cocked angery ranting that may or may not make you laugh, but lets start with what has been taking up a decent amount of my time since I have been home, work. I am doing side work for the brewery that is opening in camp hill. I have been running wiring, and learning about electrical work, and desperately trying not to electricute myself (clearly I am to be served raw, refer to the recipe a few lines up). Anyways work isn't bad, but the brewery's grand opening is fast approaching, and there is a lot of work left to do. It seems everynight when I leave work there is tons of work to be done (like putting out those pesky electrical fires that my wiring may or may not have started). But when I come back in the morning a lot of the work is done, and there is empty beer bottles on the bar. Now I have 2 theories. First, that the owners are staying very late at night and working and possibly having a few before they go home, or second, and highly more plausible, the brewery has hired gnomes to work through the night, and they pay them with beer. Think of the profit margin on that, one bottle of beer would satisfy at least 5 of the little buggers, so hell one case of beer... hmm, carry the 2... move the decimal to the right... ...lefty loosey... ...A LOT OF GNOMES. And if they work all night (slightly drunk) then damn they could get a lot done, much more then a few half buzzed owners that's for damn sure. Well work is pretty stressfull so I have started to look for a new way to relieve stress. The best way I can imagine would be Sea Cow punching. Seriously could you imagine how good it would feel to punch the mess out of a Manitee, you could punch for days and days and when you were done, it would just swim away (at the exact level of boat propellers, DIVE YOU STUPID FAT SEA COW, DIVE). They are the only punching bag that would offer great sounds with each blow. PUNCH, moan, PUNCH, PUNCH, moan, CHOP, KICK, Moan, (did anyone else play PaRappa the Rappa' as a kid). And you totally could wail away with a metal softball bat if you were particuarly stressed. And beating the thing would only make it more tender. Imagine a thick Manatee steak loaded with A1 on the grill. Ok i agree it's pretty gross. Ok really gross, probably tastes like celery or something. GROSS, extra GROSS.

*When I say convinced I mean punched and kicked it like a manatee*

* I love these crazy star thingers, but still hate manatees

Diet Dr. Pepper tastes more like pissing me off

If Diet Dr. Pepper tastes just like regular Dr. Pepper, WHY HAVE REGULAR DR. PEPPER. I can't imagine that there is a huge market for a product that has extra calories and sodium. If there is no taste difference then what seperates them other than real sugar or a substitute? Look, if Dr Pepper really thinks Diet DP tastes like regular DP then they need to put their High Fructose Sugar Syrup Water where their mouth is and stop making Fat Dr. Pepper. And don't tell me that the crap in Diet soda causes cancer. I'm not saying it doesn't, but seriously everthing causes cancer now. The person in a tanning bed with a ciggarette in their mouth and a cell phone next to their head can't bitch about drinking Diet Soda. BUT BUT BUT, it causes cancer in lab rats. EVERYTHING CAUSES CANCER IN LAB RATS! Air, water, and I am sure being in a lab causes cancer in lab rats. Hell, being a lab rat causes cancer in lab rats. We need to find a more suitabe animal to do tests on. We should use Cockroaches, because they are hearty little guys. If it causes cancer in Cockroaches, I wouldn't do it, that's for damn sure. If a species known to live without it's head gets for several days gets cancer, watch out cause you know that is some serious stuff. And you will notice heavy use of the word SODA, that's right I still won't say pop and my recent trip home only confirmed the truth of it all. SODA NOW, SODA FOREVER.

Jon Vs The Sun, (a little hint, the sun wins)

There is pieces of my face in all of the states from here to Florida. I fought the sun, and the sun won. Actually the sun owned me. Really though the sun took advantage of one of my secret weaknesses. My use of sun tan oil. Not only does it make you tan, but also scorches the skin off of your bones. (the other weaknesses are Rabid Wombats, Excessive amounts of penguins, and Tomato soup) I realize telling you my weaknesses isn't really that great of an idea, but I don't think any of my arch enemies read this anymore. (that's right Bizzaro-Jon I know you stopped coming here). Anyways the reason I used the oil is simple, We were having a gun show. and as you all know, guns need to be properly oiled if they are going to work right. and I surely didn't want an accidental discharge to get some one on the beach, so I oiled up the guns, and you can't stop there so I did my face and back. This oil doesn't actually make you tanner, but calls the sun closer. This made the sun come from Florida's normal 5 ft away to about 16" off of my skin. And that was a problem. Well that wasn't actually the problem, the real problem was the reddness (I was emitting heat and a stunning Magenta glow), and when that stopped, the blisters. This is where I made my next mistake. I popped every blister I could get too, which was convient because there were tons on my face and shoulders, it was like bubble wrap but with my skin, and slightly more gooey. Anyways open blisters aren't really that much fun so I took the skin off, and then I had open wounds. WHOOPS. I really should have though about the logical progression in that one. Well now I have some open sores which are healing nicely, but my skin started flaking off. (kinda like bran flakes but not as good with milk) this is where I lost my face. So if you have seen my face, please contact me and let me know. I am offering a 5 dollar reward for the person who finds atleast 30% of my face. ($5 bucks seem kinda like a rip off, but it wasn't that good of a face, and I think I will do better when I grow the next one.)

Jon Vs The Sun, (a little hint, the sun wins)

Again with the Anger

Just wanted to issue some threats to somethings that are making me upset recently. First off Face book and My Space, watch your step. First off for the facebook, if you were too cool to talk to me in high school, I will not be your friend, also seeing me on campus or a passing "hey" doesn't constitute us being chums. And as for you My Space, I just don't even understand what it is that makes you tick. I got a chunk of you, but don't really know what to do now, apparently I can scour the internet for other people so I can add them to a list of friends who I never talk to but I don't know if that is on my priority list. Nope, I just checked said list and that isn't on there, but my car's inspection sure is, and that is another thing I hate. I understand that yearly inspections are an important part of keeping the roads safe by eliminating problems before they cause accidents on the road, but come on where is the fun in that, I think you should be able to skip as many inspections as you like, but if you cause an accident then your fines are multiplied by the years since your last inspection. Say your car hasn't had it's yearly physical for 4 years, then when it blows all it's vaulves and crashes headlong into the semi in the next lane, you simply multiply the fine total (lets just say $500) by the years since last inspection in this case 4, ($2000, whoo hoo go state governemnt). Also by the same token, you have to devide a speeding ticket by that number cause lets face it, if you haven't gotten that beast checked out in 4 years it's a miracle you got it up to 90 without the engine just solidifying. And speaking of solidifying my last gripe has to do with something getting hard. Uhm lets go back for a second and try that one agian. And speaking of solidifying my last gripe has to do with something going rigid. well it's a little better. I recently recieved play doh and have been enjoying it a lot for the past week or so, unfortunately I let it sit out the other day and had to perform surgery to remove all the hard chunks from the still viable doh. It takes a long time to sift through a can of play doh to get all the little crusty pieces out and that made me think that maybe the people at play doh should focus less on a new system to extrude that doh in odd shapes and re-work the original recipe to make it last a little longer before becoming Play-Bric. By the way the original recipe is to serve room temperature with a side of paste and a dry white wine. anyways that's the rundown of what has been irritating me the most lately.

V-DAY

OH yeah that's right its one of my favorite days of the year. Uhm you might want to step back that one was oozing sarcasim, I heard it can really fuck up your shoes if it gets on there. No one wants slightly melted pumas. Anyways this year I am not going to complain about the injustice, or bitch about the lonliness that drives many americans do go crazy, why not, because this time I am not alone for the 6th worst holiday of the year. But if you are alone you can always go check out the old page and take a gander at old Jon's feelings toward the so called day of love. www.theonetruejon.blogspot.com is probably still opperational, but you might have to clean off some spider webs and remember I was a bit angrier back in those days, so don't judge me. No this year I just wanted to relate the utter ridiculousness that was walmart today. I had to go out and get an something I forgot to pick up for dinner tonight, and when I arrived I saw a sight of all consuming chaos and carnage. Litterally where there had been flowers now just stood ripped petals and overturned buckets of questionable water. Very few cards remained as I walked down an isle of shredded pink evelopes. The candy section was probably the best though. I think everything but the sugar free candy was almost gone. All except for the gross things of course , black liquirice, dark chocolate, white chocolate, things with pecans, good and plenties. I saw an entire empty display of pop rocks that I know for a fact had been full 2 days ago. Nothing says I love you like pop rocks mind you. The people of Western PA must be into some seriously kinky shit to consume that many poprocks. but the icing on all the destruction was a desimated Russle Stover box that bore a huge foot print of a war wound. Taking in the scene reminded me of seeing pictures of the trenches after a WWI battle. It was ugly, and I am glad to say I wasn't there. Well anyways just wanted to wish everyone a Happy V-Day

Dick "trigger happy" Cheney

That's right our beloved Vice President has done something so ridiculous you couldn't have imagined it if you tried really really hard. No it's not a 30th heart attack, and no it has nothing to do with oil companies, but it does deal with a shotgun and a politician from texas. Wow what a great way to describe it. No before my leftist readers get excited it wasn't President Bush, and he didn't kill the man. Mr. Whittington, (very distingished sounding, maybe I should say Harrumph in front of it. ) Mr. Harrumph Whittington came up behind Cheney and a fellow hunter without calling out or singnalling. And when a group of quail were flushed Cheney fired at a bird and peppered Mr. Harrumph Whittington. Not cracked red peppered or even Cheyenne peppered, just gave him a few pellets from the game load cartrage he fired. These few pellets found their way into Mr. Harrumph Whittington right cheek, neck, and chest. Here's the best part, he immediately taken to the hospital by the on call ambulance that follows the vice president. HE HAS AN ON CALL AMBULANCE! I want that so bad. how can a person get an on call ambulance short of starting their own community. Well it's not caused he saved up all his chuck-e-cheese tickets and that was on the wall of prizes. No aparently the 8 or 25 heart attacks warrents your own first response team ready to roll your lard ass onto a gurney and administer a shock from those badass defibulator paddles. Anyways Mr. Harrumph Whittington is in stable condition and will be out of the hospital soon. Cheney an avid hunter is now considering giving up the hunting of quial as he has now been reported to have developed a taste for the most DANGEROUS GAME. It is also reported to have bought a small island off the coast of mexico where he can stock it with only the finest people for his hunts, the island will be called, Definately-nothing-illegal-going-on-here island. Unfortunately that last piece of information was reported by me. on this site. So you might want to question the validity of that last bit.

Hrubbberneckers

I think if there is any group of people who needs to be shot out into the sun and never heard from again it's definately rubberneckers. Yeah that's right, if you are that interested in a persons misfortune that you need to tie up traffic even more, then you deserve the bright hot searing doom that is a crash landing into our solar central. Today on the parkway I was traveling in-bound, (pay attention this is important later, and there might be a quiz) and on the radio I heard about an accident on the outbound side before the tunnel. That's right I am talking about the infamous Squirrel Hill Tunnels. I am used to a certian amount of traffic near the tunnels but as I cleared the last exit preceeding them, I saw a sea of glittering brake lights stretching all the way to the tunnel itself. I thought I must have heard them wrong on the radio and the accident must be on the inbound side after all. 20 minutes and a mile and a half later I entered the tunnel without seeing any sign of an accident. When I emerged I saw the "accident" on the OUTBOUND side. I say "accident" because it's fun to use quotes and it there were 3 cars that had rear ended one another. 2 were drivable and 1 was being towed. Yet somehow traffic on my side, inbound, was moving at a trickle because everyone had to see one car getting towed. HOLY CRAP A TOW TRUCK! that is amazing. look it's going to move that other car. MAN this is the best day ever. the only thing you would be looking for is if to see if someone was hurt. And I imagine if it's on the radio, your not going to be the first responder to the scene, so keep driving. SO to sum it all up, just becuase some people have a preoccupation with the need to see blood and human tragedy whenever possible, I am late to class. So to make their first and final trip to the sun more enjoyable we will be playing "Red Asphault" as the inflight movie and their shuttle will be proceeded by a car, so they can watch one last accident.

Here's the quiz

Which way was Jon traveling?
A Inbound
B Outbound
C gagged and bound

What do people who rubberneck deserve
A a one way ticket to antartica
B the fist o fury
C a crash landing into our sun

What is Jon's favorite color
A Green
B Clear
C The color purple

If Jon were an animal he would be
A puma
B Penguin
C Mountain Goat with super sonic hearing

If jon were to die tomorrow he would want what done with his body
A Cremation
B Donation to science
C Cryogenically frozen until 2229 when he can assend to his robotic body and lead the last remaining armies of earth to victory across the galaxy.

Bonus. Short answer
If you were an ocean which one would you be and why. (Point taken off for the use of the word Indian Ocean instead of Native American Ocean.)

Life Goals

Ok now that I realize I just might live to 21 and past it I decided I might need some direction in those years following. Therefore I have compiled a list of things I want to do before I die. or am attached to a super action death robot to lead my evil minions in a sweep across the war torn world. (I won't have a lot of time for fun when I am a death robot)

1. Climb Mt McKinnley: I have always wanted to beat a mountian and I can't think of a better one than the tallest in America


2. See lava with my own eyes: yeah it looks cool as hell on TV so I am sure it looks much cooler being there. Also if I have any enimies I could toss them into said lava at that time.

3. Eat Puma meat: Preferably one that I hunted but I won't be picky.

4. Write a book: probably of the childrens variety cause I just love pictures

5. Visit all of the continents: This one isn't that funny at all, but the next one should make up for it.

6. Chase a penguin: Don't get me wrong I love the little guys but whenever I see them waddling around I just want to chase them around and totally dominate in a game of tag

7. Sky dive 5 times: I think doing it once is not enough, but anything over 5 times is just pushing your luck

8. Brew my own beer: This one will be pretty easy with the whole family of alcohol that I come from, but I still really want to do it.

9. Sleep for 24 hours: Seriously I want to wake up one day and just wonder what the hell happened.

10. Visit all 50 States: I have to know if Wyoming really exists or if it's just a black hole

11. Survive for a week in the Wilderness: Yeah that's right I have to be Macho, and that is my
best shot at it.

12. Hike all of the App. Trail: by sections, not all at once. thats just buck wild craziness

That's about it so far. So I can't die until I do all of those things. (or accept my new metal body either)

When will it end

The other night I was at a resturant or eating hole if you will, and I noticed on the table there was a little recpiticle for the jellies. Personally I perfer to peruse the preserves before I partake. (Yeah just getting some allertation rolling) Well my journey through the jellies would jump to a junction I could never have imagined (OK that's the last one for a while). Anyways I found a jelly marked Diet Grape. DIET Jelly. OH yeah let that one soak in for a bit. Yep all the way in there, to the bone. Uh huh, too many callories in that regular jelly. I know I feel bloated after some toast if I use the regular Jelly. Maybe not buttering the toast would help. Actually according to the packet, the diet variant had 11 calories compaired the obviously over endulgant 30 sported by most REGULAR grape jellies. At what point do the 19 calories really make or break your diet. That 19 calories equates to about (this part is mostly collage specific show my younger readers may not eat these foods) 1/20 of a bowl of Ramen noodles, a 10th of a cup of cocoa, a few noodles of easy mac, and 1/21st of a bag of butter popcorn. I also figured it's approximately 1/30th of a can of baked beans, possibly a piece of peperonni, or a pickle from a McDonalds Sandwich. SO I say take the pickles off your hamburger, or don't eat those few kernels of popcorn that fall on the floor, and go ahead and splurge, get the real jelly. (see I didn't even make a comment about the word splurge, ah who am I kidding, its such a silly word) Anyways yes I did taste the diet jelly and it tasted like doo doo. It had a flavor not unlike watered down, flat grape soda.

Thanksgiving in a Pot

Here is another quick recipie for everyone to try. Just a warning before we get started, this meal tastes delicious, but may be extremely harmful to your health. Do not consume massive quantities, or you will definately suffer the consequences. Thanksgiving in a Pot is not for people with Heart Conditions, a history of strokes, the elderly, those who are pregnant, or might become pregnant during the meal.
This dish is fairly simple. First you will need leftovers from thanksgiving: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and gravy) Then you should secure a large can of baked beans. The more different varieties of cheese you have the better. I recomend American, Pepper Jack, and Cheddar. That is all you need.

Empty the can of beans into the pot, nasty juices and all, then stir in turkey and the more starchy of the leftovers (mashed potatos, stuffing), next add the vegtables, and then start shedding the cheese. Add the torn up cheese, and then stir in the gravy. Heat it on Medium heat for about 10 minutes, letting it all mix together and allow the cheese to complete melt. Remove from the stove, and let congeal for 5 minutes, serve in large bowls. Feeds 2. maybe.

1st Ever Super Happy Fatal Ice Slide of Death (Which can murder you till you die, or mortally would you to your deceasement)

First off, what a title. If nothing else that follows is worth anything it's ok to me because I really like that tittle. I will try my best to do it justice.
I got home and spent most of my break with my best friend Dwight Decker. His middle initial was clinically proven to add too much awesomeness to his name and therefore has been removed until further notification by the Surgeon General. It's A. Anyways I want to focus on a key event of that break with the explanation of that fantastic title you can find at the top of the page. At the Dwights house, (also known as the Deckers Lair) some one left a tub out on the side of the house. This tub in anticipation for our arrival this past weekend has been filling itself with rain water and then freezing when the temperature gets low enough. Apon seeing this frozen tub we decided that we needed to use the gaint ice chunk in a ridiculous manor. We thought that is removed from the tub the ice would definately slide down a hill, possibly holding a rider at the same time. Early on Saturday morning I set about smashing the ice chunk out of the tub. When it was all said and done the chunk turned out to be more of a disk. I will try to show the demensions down here.
_______________
/______________\ 4" thick X 2' wide
Anyways we took a really rugged dolly, (it had 4 wheels, 2 of which were like all-terrian dolly tires. Just incase you needed to deliver a fridge, to the top of Mount McKinley.) and loaded up the ice block and carried up the hill to a little side street with less traffic but a really steep decline. Unfortunately for us the top section of the hill wasn't steep enough for the ice to slide right, but after a few attempts we found that the 2nd half was perfect for the slide. Sitting on a gaint slice of ice we would slide down the hill and then crash into the intersection and tumble off into the cinders or the manhole cover. Mr. Decker had the only completely sucessful ride as he was untossable. But the dolly would prove it's worth again by making a makeshift bobsled for us. For fear of traffic we stayed on the side street, but we could have easily made it to Steelton on that monster dolly. Knowing now what we knew then, and then knowing what we now know we know we know a lot more this time, you know. We are working on designs for a newer stronger faster better more gooder chunk of ice to slide down streets next year. If you have any ideas please leave them as comments.

Ragaholic

I think I have become a ragaholic. No I am not addicted to Rageahol like some of you think. It's not that I am never happy, but I would say I have about 10% of my day angry. 10% you say, I bet your thinking that's not a lot. (also your thinking I used the "%" because I can't spell persent. and you are right) Well it is when you think that like 30% is sleeping, another 20% is spent in classes or doing work. 7% is eating, no comments on that one or some one is getting throttled. (what a quality threat). 6% is spent on personal upkeep. Yeah that's right I do bath. You can only imagine how bad I would look if I cut that time down. (So where are we, like a lot of %'s, ok, hold on, let me Math a little. Yeah math is a verb. ok 70 some of these jobbers "%".) Another 10% is spent socializing and general interactions with others. 15% of my day goes to the Air Force. (I am currently not permitted to comment on the ridiculousness of that number) and the last 5% of my day is spent, well you know. that special time at night when I close my door. I like to read you sick bastards. GOSH. Now for all you math wizards out there I know you got a number more than 100% probably something along the lines of 103%. And I am sure someone is going to say to them selves, "Self, it's not really possible to have 103% of a day. Also self, that freckle on our ass is really starting to worry us. We should remember to get that looked at." And if that person (upon return from their visit to a lisenced physician who reassured them that it was just a freckle and not some cancerous sore poised to unleash wave after wave of booty cancer into them) would comment on my math to me I would explain to them that ridiculous numbers are what I am hoping to get a few laughs from. Where did this all start? oh yeah it's up there at the top of the page. Shit I got sidetracked, man I get really pissed when I get sidetracked. Dammit now I am going to have to add to the angry number. and that means more math and more of these % things floating around. Dammit now I'm too pissed to finish this. I'm out

HAPPY TURKEY SLAUGHTER DAY. Remember millions of birds were murdered for your dinner. Enjoy, I know I will.

I couldn't find a depressing enough quote

I have noticed something. yeah that's a sentence. Subject (that's the I) and the predicate (the rest of those words). I have noticed people clearly mis-use the away message. I think it's purpose is to let other people know where you are and when you will be back, if at all. Too many people are now putting up songs (ok I do this sometimes, but only on occasions so ridiculous you wouldn't believe me if I told you where I was.) or write the most saddest and depressing things. (almost as depressing as my grasp of the english language in that last statement.) Seriously if you are mad at some one or they are making you upset, tell them. this underhanded little message crap ain't really doing it. I think those depressing messages kinda force the other people to ask you what's wrong. That is why for the most part I just respond ridiculously to them. Like if it says something along the lines of "Too sad to sleep" I like to write back, "There's always nightquil". Or I got this one the other day "You don't know what you do to me" ; a great response to that one is "Yes we do, it's fun for everyone, well maybe not YOU". This may make me an unfeeling asshole, but, well it does make me an unfeeling asshole. And that's cool because I shouldn't have to feel for you over the internet just cause you aren't happy. On the opposite side of the away message spectrum (the spectrum actually vibrates somewhere between Ultra Violet and MegaUber Violet. ) you have the overly excited persons with messages littered with smiley faces. I am kinda miffed at the whole smiley thing to begin with. If the person you are talking to can't figure out if you are happy or sad with out some little animated dot going buck wild then they are the unfeeling asshole. Wait I am the unfeeling asshole. Ok they can be the socially numb colon. that's some quality name makery right there. I would like to set a limit to Smileys per message. I think AIM shouldn't let people put more then 1 smiley per every 3 lines of text. Also while we are at it, lets please limit our use of exclamation points. To me, 1 of those little buggers means I am yelling it. When you go upwards of 3 then you have crossed the line from loud to threshold of pain. If you want to stress something, use the underline, but don't make your sentence look as if it is emerging from a forest of excalamation points.
Holy shit it is scary in that forest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyways please stop the thinly veiled attacks on one another as well. If you're pissed, then get mad, don't just leave a poorly thought out away message up and then just hide behind it to see what the other person writes. Those are messages I like to respond to as well. Ridiculously as possible. (<--- Not a sentence)

ICE CRACK

Here in good ole Westmoreland Hall Room 102 instant ice tea is a staple in our diet. Not an actual metal staple, I can't imagine that would have a very high nutritional value. But the normal ice tea isn't enough for us, hell no. We needed something stronger, something that if left in the bottom of a cup would eat it's way through and lay bubbling on the carpet. And becacuse of this and the fact that I am too slow to read the container correctly, I almost doubled the intended amount of mix to one gallon of tea. Thus Ice crack was born. well not really born, that implies that I was the father of it and I am in no position to support any dependants, more like thus ice crack was mixed (yeah that should keep me safe during the custody battles and child support suits of the next 10 years) . But just so you at home can form a complete picture in your minds, this stuff is more potent then coffee, it will keep you up all night, and it's addictive as hell. It's almost medically imposible to drink more than half a cup in an hour, and the last couple of swigs at the bottom of the jug are almost chewable. This would be the drink of the gods, but it makes me jittery. If you ever want to try some just stop by 102 and demand your cup of crack but remember you were warned.

Theory of Change Reproduction

Some one the other day asked why I had an assload (actually equivelent to 1/4 of a shitfukc, also equal to 2 hooplas, or 8 slews) of pennies through out the crevices, nooks, and crannies of the nonnamed mobile. You may think that this was because I have no organizational skills and just allow the change to fall as it may throughout the unnamed autocar, but you are wrong, dead wrong, and if you're not careful, maybe just dead. I have a theory that multitudes of pennies, unwatched for an extended period of time will eventually evolve into several nickles, and when these nickles are mixed with other nickles from different areas, then eventually dimes will be formed. This also applies to quarters, but that is where my research ends because at that point I harvest the highest evolved form and place it in receptacles that allow me to park. some people say this theory is complete crap and you can asume that nickles and dimes just get mixed in with the pennies. I say to these people, OK, because I don't really know that much about sciences and therorisimissm (<-- This is a product of my theory of word break down, where it's not the commonly believed fact that I can't spell, but more of a failure of my brain to connect correctly to the fingers that do the typing.)

Let me mispel it out for you

I hate stupid drunk people. To me the drunker you are the stupider you are. (yes I know it's more stupid, but just refer your gramatically correct asses up to the title) Learn your limits people. If you go out and get sick everytime you drink, either A) you have an allergic reaction to alcohol, B) you don't know your limits, or C) you're 11 years old. and if it's that last choice then some one needs to be watching the door at those parties. If it's A, then sorry your screwed, try something else to get you messed up, (No I am not encouraging the use of illegal drugs, I was simply refering to safer non illegal methods like getting high on life.) If it's B, and it normally is, then you need to STOP DRINKING SO MUCH, it's really not that hard, instead of drinking as much as you can, say lets try drinking a few less than that. Instead of drinking till you vomit or the room starts spinning how about... hmmmm.... NOT DOING THAT. There is no such thing as puke and rally, it should be called puke, feel slightly better for a little while, then puke some more later. Also if you are drunk do not get on the internet. If you can't form basic sentences while talking you are going to have some serious issues typing them. And just use me for an example, I am sober as hell and I still can't not untype good. So in closing remember Learn from your own mistakes, if you're hugging the toilet in the morning then you fucked up last night.

Adventure

The cold and crisp silence of the late fall night was only broken by the tolling of a single bell. One o'clock. The moon that hung low in the sky, it's curving peak just visible over the forested mountains surrounding Greensburg PA, shone down as 6 men emerged from a brightly lit hall. As they strode purposefully across the commons their talk turned to adventure, and before they could reach the warm inviting beds of their homes, each one was filled with something akin to wanderlust. Qucikly they made ready for their journey. Plans were laid and courses were plotted. The half dozen set out from the safety of Greensburg and ventured forward into the the untamed lands of the west. Yes I speak of the most flat and boring Ohio. The incidious levelness that plauges the midwest stems right from the one place we were forced to go, Ohio. We gathered provisions of Coffee and Gasoline at the local sheets and at made our first strides toward our goal at 1:30 in the morning. An hour of travel saw us to the border of our hated enemy, and if it was not for the amazing wonders we seeked there, surely we would have turned back. But with great reluctance we crossed that faithful plain and as the mountians of our homeland faded in the mirrors we knew there was no turning back. Another hour later we were poised at the edge of Akron Ohio. Yes, our destination lie within the infamous Akron Ohio. We quickly exited and made for our goal with the utmost of haste. And there it was like a beacon to hope and truth, the fruit of our toils, the ultimate goal, a small spot of awesomeness and excitment in the blank slate of oppression that is Ohio, The White Castle shone far into the night. Our joy was beyond bounds as we desimated rank after rank of tiny meat patties trapped between miniscule buns. Long into the morning did our revels go. A rukus the likes of which ohio rarely sees. But soon, the weariness of our flesh soon came to light and we realized we all longed for home. With a myriad of spent burger casings clustered now empty in the brimming trashcans, we drove solemnly into the untamed flatness of Ohio. The next hour was the most trying of our journey. The need for sleep was paramount in everyone's mind but we could recieve no rest until we cleared Ohio and returned to our fatherland. As the miles ticked down, we saw shining in the distance a sign proudly proclaiming "Welcome to Pennslyvannia". A new vigor was renewed within the party as we strove hard towards home. Another hour would pass and we finally reached the safe confines of Greensburg once again. We stood stiffly in the parking lot; stretching our tired limbs. And as the sun burst through the pre dawn mists, sending its warm glowing rays down apon us, we all felt sick because the onions on white castle burgers are really greasy.

Mandatory STD

First off, I heard that there is a movement to call STD's, STI's now, because the word infection is better then desease. It seems to me that most people who have an STD weren't considering their genitals feelings when the got it, so why do I have to worry about offending them by saying they have a disease. But my thought process as always marched forward across the borders of sanity and into the realm of ridiculousness. Having an STD or STI is a huge deterant to having unprotected sex. I think we can all agree, the idea of reliving a terrible feeling of fire every time you urinate is enough to make you want to wrap that shit up. But what about the kids who are just starting their sexual careers, the rookies if you will, I have developed a program where apon reaching puberty they are infected with a curable, but terrible STD just to make sure they are careful when they are ready to do the horizontal slide. We then let them enjoy it for a month and then fix them up. I am not talking anything serious or deadly, and no viruses, just a quick dose of the clap or the Sif to make sure they get the point.

All right all right

Yeah that's right I am back, and slightly pissed, and before you ask, no the car still has no name. She seems to like being unidetifiable, but oh well on to more bigger and meaner things. First off I just want to say what happened to that transition time between seasons. A week ago I was wearing shorts and enjoying the sun and warm weather. While today I question being able to go out due to glacial movement. I need more than 2 days to prepare for the switch between temperate zone to frozen tundra. This year I say fuck winter I am going to hybernate. or is it hibernate. Whatever the spelling I am talking about the time where I just take like 2 bottles of NyQuil and pass out for 2 months, just like the bears and other fuzzy woodland creatures do. My roomates could just lock my door and when I emerge in the early spring we can have a festival to see if I see my shaddow. Speaking of groundhogs I hit one this weekend. Yeah he got the business end of the un-named-mobile. How stupid does an animal have to be to wait along the side of a road until there is only one car coming and then dash out infront of the tires. I can't imagine what he's trying to do, maybe his thoughts on hitch hiking are all wrong or he just wants to me to slow down, but the result is always the same. big splatter and minus 1 fuzzy woodland critter from the environmnet. and who decided there needs to be an N in Environment. it would be so much nicer if it was Enviroment. I would start a program to fix that but I think people would just assume my already agregious spelling mistakes had trickled down deeper into my vocabulary. SO to recap, I hate winter, groundhogs, and the useless N in ENVIROnMENT