Pointless Announcements

Madam, I'm Thor.

You're Thor? I can barely walk!

/old joke

I need a nap.

Carry on.

 

Ugh...applications. Needs to be done, though. :/

 

I have a feeling I'd be REALLY Thor if he unleashed his hammer on me.

Mmmmmm Thor.

 

If they don't respond in a week, call them with a preemptive "It's because I'm a young male black Muslim, isn't it?"

 

Apply to Chik-fil-a. You can tear it down from the inside AND you're guaranteed to get Sundays off.

 

Was the rib area a sensitive area for the words tattoo?

 

Yes, but it was totally worth it to get the entire lyrics for Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Relax tattooed on my oblique.

 

Ha...that made me giggle.

 

Can I fit my status as a Jewish/Black/Chinese/Icelandic/American Indian/Mexican/Dutch/Greek/Nigerian/Russian/Bulgarian Muslim in there over the phone?
--- merged: Jul 27, 2012 at 3:12 PM ---

So you saved the other side for the complete lyrics to Britney Spear's Toxic?

 

Negative.

I've decided that since I had such great success with playing the panty-dropping Wonderwall on a $50 Yamaha acoustic in college, I'm going to get that one next. I don't know what kind of font to use. Maybe Old English. Like a MMA fighter, but with feelings. God, sometimes I really love me.

 

My former Marketing professor loves Chik-fil-a.

He would make sure to mention it at least once every two lectures.

 

Gonna be a long weekend...

 

I've 3 hours before I pull the second half of doubles, in a graveyard shift, and Angry Uterus (tm) is denying my nap. The world be warned.

 

Super Important:

I know how utterly unrealistic it is given the baffling complexity of modern personal computers, but I just successfully cloned the recently modified and newly added files from my laptop's hard disk drive to an external hard disk drive without breaking a sweat or cursing or having to change vacuum tubes. Actually, I accomplished this epic feat while taking a nap with my hand down my pants like Al Bundy. Don't try that at home, kids.

<- l33t h@x0r

 

A tattoo of the Mk2 "pineapple" hand grenade. The pin is still in because I haven't found the one girl that can blow me to pieces.

 

i've been trying to figure out what to do with the piece of shit section of the first chapter of this alleged book.
it's taken me a few days of wandering around it, reading stuff, being jittery.
but i think i cracked it.
so now there's a few pages of maybe illegible outlines and a plan.
fortunately, there's also gin and tonic.
the next couple days are going to be following the map in order to try to get this thing rewritten.
fortunately, there's also gin and tonic.

 

Wait, isn't that what writers refer to as the "immersion technique" or something?

Or, no... maybe "total submersion?"​

...

Drinking
The Surefire Shortcut to Creativity​

...​

 

i can't work like that, sadly. gin tonics are tasty. and they make me stop. it's good to let things run around in the empty room of my skull. maybe they'll trip over something interesting. if they don't i can still laugh at them.