| important
decisions |
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| youthful
delusions |
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| love
roller coaster |
Aaron's
List
Film: Robots
Game: Fable
Music: Death Cab for Cutie- Lightness
Text: Nothing
Activity: Skateboarding
Anticipating: Spring Break
Brandon's
List
Film: Robot Chicken
Game: No games. Just sports.
Music: The Killers- Somebody Told Me
Text: Big Fish by Daniel Wallace
Activity: Ping pong
Anticipating: Getting better
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as charged |
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has wasted the majority of his teenage years on
silly websites such as the one you are currently
reading and has yet to realize that there is
indeed, a world outside of the Internet. Don't
let him in on the secret now, it would only
upset him.
has been seen in passing throughout the years, but the
sands of time have eroded any written history of him. At
this point, most scholars accept the belief that he is
simply an urban legend, not unlike Bigfoot or the
Lochness Monster, and doesn't actually write for this
site. |
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| unfortunately
on the record |
| Number
of Posts Mentioning...
Killing: 96
"fuck": 80
Homosexuality: 71
Masturbation: 59
Genital Disease/Disfigurement: 38
Star Wars: 21
Horsies: 12
Burning Magma/Lava: 8
Spiders: 7
Blogger Bashing: 6
Menstruation: 6
PBS: 4
Killing With Swords: 4
"frooglepoopillion": 2
Total Posts: 100
Note: This is a
fairly rough count, which only counts once for
each post, no matter how many times a single
post might mention one of the above mentioned
topics. So really, we are far more pathetic than
these counters might lead you to believe. Hard
to fathom, yes, I know.
Also: Brandon
explains the menstruation with, "I think it
hits you harder as you grow up. You realize that
whenever you get pissed at a chick, it's usually
'cause of that." He then proceeded to
exclaim, "WOW. God dammit, man," at
something disgusting that I said.
Google Search
Queries...
Retards, three
toed sloth, Jedi Outcast, booger, Butterfly,
wookie, something, nothing, joe, monkey
pictures, cartoon dogs, train lyrics, don, cry,
come, New York subway map, potato salad recipes,
shaolin temple, shaolin monks, shaolin kung fu,
time travel, mucus, snot, phlegm, texas chainsaw
massacre, costumes, learn to fly, silly monkey
hats, ugadi greetings, fat people, noah's ark,
crazy people, free weights, jelq, aids research,
sleep disorders, narcolepsy, sleep paralysis,
raiders of the lost ark, monkey bone, dragon
pictures, the last unicorn, mythical creatures
Number of
Readers Online: online
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less like tripe |
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Saturday, June 28, 2003 |
I've been on vacation since May 20th and thirty-nine days later I can safely say that it's been about as much fun (or interesting) as sticking your dick in someone's tailpipe just to see who suffers more - you or the car. No, I haven't tried this, but with the way things are going it's either that or I start a website dedicated to Alfonso Ribeiro. Either way you look at it, I'm doomed to a pitiful existence for the next two months. If you need more proof, then look no further than my unhealthy obsession with Star Wars, recently rekindled out of sheer boredom. But, because I actually want to get laid and have friends when I go back to school, we'll leave that story for another time.
Anyways, today I stumbled upon something that has been buried deep within my subconscious for almost fourteen years. No, I wasn't captured by a monster named Snik, only to be rescued several hours later by Fred Savage and a guy with horns named Maurice. Although that'd probably make an interesting story, it doesn't compare to the shit I had to deal with when I was 4. See, back in glorious 1988, every toy store in New England put on display this kite which sported two evil, flame filled eyes against a black or white backdrop (naturally, because unlike the South, two different skin colors can coexist). This wasn't your grandfather's kite, no. This was a new breed of cool for every 10 year old that could spare a couple of bucks and catch a gust of wind. If you were me, though, well....this was probably one of the most terrifying things to ever come into existence, aside from Roseanne trying to sell a Stair Master, of course.
Honestly, I remember living in fear of the "flaming eyes" whenever I went into the toy store. Having to cower whilst averting my eyes downward just to get a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure became a royal pain in the ass after awhile. A toy store was a child's sanctuary back in those days, and to have that be unearthed by the presence of a sadistic looking kite - downright blasphemy. Over time, I became determined to rid every store I went to of this kite. It gave birth to a Moby Dick like crusade, except without the harpoon and the fact that covering my eyes usually threw me off course, landing me in the Barbie isle instead as several on lookers silently asked themselves, "What the fuck was this child doing?"
Fourteen years later, I can safely say that I outsmarted my adversary, since I no longer set foot in a toy store anywhere.
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Saturday, June 28, 2003 |
Kids say the darndest things. I had an interesting conversation with my 8 year old brother a couple days ago. Before we go any further, it should be known that he is slightly precocious and by "slightly precocious" I mean he's an out of control, eccentric, devious brain child. Sometimes he'll say something in a decidely British accent, like any true evil mastermind, and I'll go, "...what did you just say?" Then, like the tricky little fucker he is, he'll say the same thing in a 8 year old out of control, eccentric, devious brain child's voice and look at me like he can't believe I didn't hear him the first time. For purposes of enhancing the following conversation, it might help you if you imagine him wearing a monocle and stroking a fat persian cat.
AJ: Hey Aaron, I was wondering what the laws on child abuse are?
Aaron: What do you mean the laws on child abuse?
AJ: I mean like, what do they do to you for it?
At this point, I was beginning to worry. That smarmy little shit figured out how to use the phone and has Child and Family Services on speed dial! He'll have me locked up like those bastards at the Institute of Living wanted! Now he was just playing a mind game with me, getting me anxious so that when the suits with guns batter down my door and cart me away it will be even worse with me knowing that I knew it was coming and chose not to do anything about it. He knew I knew what child abuse was, that I was guilty as OJ (seriously though, why would you run away if you were innocent? It just makes no sense to me. Perphaps it's the years of black oppression, but I still can't really understand it), and that I couldn't do a damn thing about it. There was no way I could shut him up. I couldn't beat him into submission, or even cram him into the toaster oven and cover up my crime with some well spread marmalade. First of all, it would only make my sentence more severe and second of all, he had concocted some sort of demon's brew that made him immortal anyway.
Aaron: *sweat beading on forehead* Well it depends. They...they'll usually take the kid's away to a foster home... and you could get ...jail time... if it's bad enough.
There! I had said it! That's all he wanted, right?! He could stop toying with me now, right?! But no...no, he kept prodding deeper and deeper...like that camp counselor from the summer between 5th and 6th grade. I wanted to be on shirts, not skins! Why was he making me be on skins?! I'm ashamed of my figure!
AJ: But no death penalty?
Aaron: *shivering* WHAT! YOU...I mean...uh. Well, it would have to be really serious.
He was out to have me killed! It's over with! I'm doomed! What the deuce am I to do?!
AJ: Child abuse... that's... what is it exactly? That's when the child cries and misbehaves too much, right?
Here was an unsuspected turn of events. I was unsure what his game was now. My entire defense was thrown off hilter and I so hate that. He sounded genuine, but then again, out of control, eccentric, devious brain children are generally very good at manipulation and lying. I should know. I decided to take a gamble and try to trick the trickster. This usually ends up with my penis caught in a vice with teeth or something equally gruesome, but what can I say, there's a certain appeal to feeling like your every pour is oozing napalm.
Aaron: ...*eyes narrowing* Yes AJ... it's when a child abuses his priviledge of crying.
AJ: Oh, I see. Hm. *walks away*
It seems as of right now that he has indeed been fooled. I might fancy saying that he thinks that he could go to jail! Him living in fear would be perfect for me, especially since then he'd be too afraid to call the cops on me in fear of them arresting him while they were at it. Then again, this could all just be another facet of his great plan for my gradual undoing. My death could still be at hand. More on this as it develops.
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Wednesday, June 25, 2003 |
This "good website linking my not very good website" trend appears to be continuing. Poprocks and Coke gave Something Like Tripe a little complimentary reach around the other day and I was all like, "Yo, Mike, stay for the circle jerk!" That's a fancy and homoerotic way of saying, "Join the club!" I'm glad I'm the cool thing to do. That excites me, mostly in the nether regions, but I guess getting done has that effect on most people. Unless you're my girlfriend... zing! Oh, speaking of which...
About a month ago my girlfriend and I went to see some movie, and one of the previews was for The Hulk. She whispered in my ear, "Pff...I don't think I'll be seeing that one." Naturally, I responded, "No way!" in between loud, unnatural bursts of forced laughter. And if, at any time in the future she asks me if I ever did see it, my response will be much the same.
As I sat down in the theater the other night with a couple of friends of mine who I can feel comfortable going to movies like The Hulk with because they asked me to see Ice Age with them once and I know that I'm "the cool one" in the bunch, I said outloud, "I'm never telling anybody I saw this movie." They giggled like they must have thought it was a joke, but I was actually quite serious. Outside of the one kabillion people who now have access to this knowledge, nobody will ever know. There's no evidence of me seeing it, I made sure of that. I ripped the ticket up and threw it away! In retrospect, I probably should have swallowed it...no, burned it! Or at the very least, flushed it down the toilet...I doubt the alligators would tell...or would they?
Don't get me wrong, there are definitely some good things about this movie. However, not enough good somethings to make it a good movie. First of all, the action scenes are a lot of fun and pretty violent with plenty of explosions and mayhem except for its horrendous mismash of an ending. However, for a movie about a blundering lummox with a knack for destruction and being invincible there aren't enough action sequences and they're way too far apart. I mean, I can understand if the Hulk gets tired but...wait, no I can't! HULK STRONG! HULK SMASH! Ahem...some other things worth noting- Nick Nolte puts on a good show, but the rest of the performances are a toss up. The comic book style multiple angles are a cool effect that I feel like I should appreciate, but in the end they are only distracting, chaotic, and overused at certain points.
Unfortunately, other than that there's little to write home about. The movie goes in different directions too frequently, resulting with a fairly confused plot. It was littered with flash backs that ended up getting pretty annoying. The CGI physics are bogus, and Hulk's ability to jump endless expanses of land is completely unbelievable not to mention entirely ridiculous looking, even for a super hero movie. The ending is convoluted, and for a fight that should have been epic in scale was drowned out by darkness and under water scenes. It was pretty impossible to understand exactly what was going on. Supposedly if you read the comics you would understand it more, but I think even if I knew what the fuck was supposed to be happening, I'd still think it looked like shit. And personally, it seemed to be rife with innuendo, as Bruce groans "You think you can handle me? Then take me! Take all of me!" All the while the insano super absorbant Dr. Banner is going, "Mwahahah...yes....yeeeesssss!!!" The ending is weak, point made. Three fourths of the movie was slow paced and you're left waiting for it to end, but the Hulk continues to drag on. Hell, the Hulk himself doesn't even show up until about an hour in! Lastly, I was left with Ang Lee all over me like I just crossed the streams. The ever stretching purple pants were the only thing that kept me from feeling completely unsatisfied. It's strange when being faithful to the comic book origins seems wrong.
Lots of people have been criticizing the look of Hulk in the movie. You know, how he's so "fake" looking. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, they did a pretty good job making Hulk look fake here, since if everybody knew that he was real there might be chaos in the streets! A common misconception is that people enjoy the presence of 50 foot lumbering, invincible, raging green idiots. Think about it for a second, fellas, if people wanted them around we wouldn't have spent so much money in the past keeping the retards locked up. And don't pretend that we're any better now, because now we just force them to work at McDonalds so they'll get cancer before they can get a bagging job at Stop & Shop and crush our eggs with watermelons. Thank God they don't sell cinder blocks at the grocery store, otherwise those eggs wouldn't have a chance in hell. Heartless retards, it's like they're incapable of thinking like a normal, rational human being! It's like something's wrong with them! Speaking of something wrong, back to the Hulk. I'm sure Hulk appreciates his fake looking appearance as well, if people knew that he was real they might shoot missiles at him from super high tech helicopters or try to run him down with tanks. Man...that would have been sweet if they had done that in the movie, but instead they just had Bruce Banner complain about his father and Betty Ross cry incessently for 2 hours. Good flick.
What people ought to be trashing Hulk about is its complete lack of originality. Did you know there are at least 62 movies with the word "Hulk" in it, that came about before this movie? Granted, a few of them were about the Hulk, but I personally think they were about somebody entirely different because first of all, Lou Ferrigno was neon green, not forest green and second of all, Lou Ferrigno was Lou Ferrigno and definitely not the Hulk. He was just a mean man with green skin and rippling chests. But anyway, let's have a look at some of the movies out there more deserving of the word "Hulk" in their titles.
Hollywood Hulk Hogan: Hulk Still Rules, The Death of the Incredible Hulk (too bad the new movie wasn't called this, that would have been a gas), The Incredible Hulk: The Incredible Shrinking Hulk also known as The Incredible Hulk: The Incredible Oxymoron, Incredible Hulk: Unmasked (apparently nobody told them that the Hulk doesn't wear a mask, his face really is that leathery...he's only so mad all the time because of a terribly itchy dry skin condition), Hulk Hogan: The Missing Matches, Bash at the Beach: Hulk Hogan Vs. Ric Flair, Hulk Hogan's All-Time Champ, Hulk Hogan's Rock 'N' Wrestling: Round 1 The Champs Win Again, Hulk Hogan's Rock 'N' Wrestling: Round 3 The Wrong Stuff, Hulk Hogan's Rock 'N' Wrestling: Vol. 1, The Incredible Hulk Returns (I'm sorry, it's okay to cry), Rocky III, Suburban Commando, Mr. Nanny, Spy Hard, 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain, and finally, Santa With Muscles. Granted, half of those were about the best wrestler evar and the other half were movies that starred the best wrestler evar, but I just couldn't resist including a movie called "Santa With Muscles" or "High Noon at Mega Mountain" on my list. Where is Mega Mountain and what is the quickest route to get there? Are there any amusement parks or tourist attractions on the way? Oh, yeah, Mega Mountain is the amusement park and tourist attraction on the way. That makes sense. Is it in the shape of a skull and does the mouth spew molten lava? It goddamned better.
I was amazed, however, at how well preserved Betty Ross is. Did you know that she sewed the first American flag in 1776? That was 227 years ago! For those of you that don't know, that's a long fucking time! But she still looks pretty hot in this movie, despite the fact that her hair changes with every scene and her face is caked with the salt from her ever running tear ducts.
Fortunately though, even though the movie was decidedly "meh", it wasn't so bad that it made me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Talk about a great couple of lines, insto-classics I tell ya. Whatever happened to "HULK SMASH"? That wasn't so bad. Leave it to Hollywood to replace a bad line with a terrible one. But let's look on the bright side, they're already working on the sequel so maybe all hope for "HULK SMASH" is not yet lost.
What's it with me and being undecided on movies lately? I'm still undecided about The Matrix: Reloaded. It was just too much...I think maybe it was the flying. It had to be the flying. The Hulk had that gay, wannabe flying thing too which I hate more each time I think about it. Something has put me off of flying, and I think I'm going to blame Al Queda. If those damn terrorists hadn't gone and hijacked some planes the goddamned Hulk could fly from here to fucking Acme Acres and I wouldn't give half a shit and an once of fuck. Hell, he could fly all the way to Mega Mountain and I'd be okay with it as long as he brought me back a hat or one of those big foam fingers or a straw in the shape of a penis. And I would probably excuse Neo's antigravity antics as well...but only because he's the one. I have a soft spot for tall, dark the ones. I don't know what it is about them...maybe it's the flying.
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Monday, June 23, 2003 |
The interweb never ceases to amaze me. You know, I started going on the internet years ago, maybe 7 years now. I remember I would nervously page through a magazine or click through channels on the television, slowly working up the gusto to ask my mother permission to use her AOL account so I could check out the Spawn website. I would do it almost every day...and it never got easier.
Well, until I figured out the magic of Compuserve and that you didn't necessarily need AOL in order to dial into the amazing and unstoppable information super highway (translation- the Spawn website). However, after that I ran into all kinds of other trials such as a troublesome hentai addiction that took years to break. I'm writing this from the future, in case you didn't know, assuming that your reality's Aaron actually ever does break that hentai addiction. Did you know that in the year 2085 you don't even have to ask your mother to go on AOL? You can do it yourself! See, technology is always advancing and fast!
Other than an unhealthy love for cartoon women with neon hair and eyes that fill up three quarters of their face, I found many other frightening things on the internet. ...Hm. Let's talk more about the anime babes. I think it's their skin's incredibly ability to hold male ejaculate that captivates me so. You'll never see a real woman completely covered with semen, real women just won't stand for that sort of thing. And even if they ever were in that situation, they certainly wouldn't be smiling with that cute little entire face blush thing they do, licking their lips and quietly giggling, "Domo." Or you know what, maybe it's the fact that they actually enjoy having their backsides torn asunder by tentacle beasts that say things like "The strong force build inside you like tsunami, now you cum!!!" I don't know what it is, man, but that's probably going to ruin whatever else I was going to talk about since nothing seems all that terrible compared to that. Except for maybe watching Austin Powers in French. Actually, you know what? Replace "maybe" with "definitely it's so horrific I can't bear to think of it, leave me!" Yeah...that sounds about right.
I remember in the first few days that I liberated myself onto the true internet, not the one that Malbolgia and his necromancers would have you believe exists, I accidentally stumbled upon my father's Compuserve email account. My heart raced as I read the saucy emails with pictures included of hot, lusty twenty somethings asking my father to come chat with them. At the time I didn't have a firm grasp on the concept of mass mailings and spam, so I believed that my father was having a very hush-hush online affair with some loose tramps from internetland. I clearly remember one of the email subjects from one of the many sluts after my father being "Why did you leave last night?" I thought it was specifically talking to my father...that he actually did leave last night! Although worried for the state of my parents' marriage, I recieved some comfort knowing that my dad had left the bitch unsatisfied. I figured he either realized his crime and got out before it was too late, was simply experimenting like a curious teenager and bit off a little more than he could orally stimulate, was caught in the act and would be serving my mother like a cheap Nicaraguan slave bought on the black market ("black" market, that's a pun...because of the Nicaragua reference...get it...oh yeah) for the rest of eternity, or prematurely ejaculated and left before the girl charged him for the lapdance. I was even more worried for my father after somebody told me that you could get an STD from oral sex. Silly me, I thought that was just talking about it! Well, one thing led to a few others and in a completely innocent effort to protect my own father's health I ended up getting myself in a little bit of trouble. Oh how my life resembles a Nancy Drew mystery! When my dad interrogated me if I had been having sex after all the STD prevention literature arrived in the mail I thought he was playing a clever game to get me to believe that there was no foul play occuring on his side. Now I realize that I was just dumb.
But anyway, the reason I started writing this post is because I noticed that several websites out there in the nebulous dark regions of the net (translation- everywhere, especially the Spawn website) had posted various things up about Something Like Tripe which frankly, sent my socks rocketing through miles of rock and burning magma, my monocle flying off my brow and into high earth orbit, and made my penis thump with something I seem to remember as the sensation right before getting a full erection, but unfortunately due to that hentai addiction that doesn't happen to me anymore. It was either because of the ever swelling blisters or divine retribution, but either way I would have voted for Dole in the '96 presidential campaign had I been 18 out of sympathy and understanding. The things these people said about The Marked Fool almost make me wish it wasn't impossibly difficult to bring it back. Hell, Amandar thought it was glorious! I almost forgot about how much I enjoy not caring about website statistics and layouts that use "pictures". Get this, Jon Yu from Adam Riff frickin' linked me, and I didn't think he liked anybody! Drew over at Stupidfuckingurl did similarly, and I'm pretty stoked on that because I'm sure he's milking the search engines with a domain like that...what I meant was, his website is totally awesome. It's all a little much. I mean, sure, I've been called a genius by some people before but I only thought that was because they wanted to get into my delicates. And I don't think Marc wants to get into my ... fuck. You know what...websites fucking suck. Nobody loves me for who I am! I AM NOT A PIECE OF MEAT!
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Saturday, June 21, 2003 |
Hey look, I have a blog. Does that make me gay?
Okay, maybe not gay...what about a whiny emo kid? Bandwagoner? Hypocrite? Yeah, that one sounds the dirtiest and most potentially tarnishing to my reputation. Well...I don't know about that, it's hard to top gay. At least I'm not gay. Then again...gay is cool and chic and MTV these days so maybe...I mean maybe like being a hypocrite is worse than being gay, not like I'm gay since it's "in" to be gay now that it really does seem like Will and Grace isn't going to get cancelled. I thought for sure it would. That was about 5 years ago, actually, way before all this higgledee-piggledee about hypocrisy and homosexuality, back when they were still dirty words. I suppose hypocrisy is still a dirty word, although nobody seems to care these days since everybody's doing it and yet condemning it at the same time.
Our whole society is a bustling, two faced closet case! Imagine that! I, of course, am referring to the hypocrisy, not the homosexuality. I'm no closet case, you goddamn better believe! Now I'm talking about the male on male, bum rumping, pole smoking, triple explicit naughty stuff every parent prays their young son doesn't become infected with after they caught him playing with... my little ponies. You thought I was going to say "his uncle" or "a cheese grater" didn't you, trash minded swine? Oh...yeah, by the way, by me saying I'm not a closet case, I do in fact mean that I'm openly straight. No cheese graters here, thank you for offering though. Now...the hypocrisy...I'm afraid I think I'll be spending a few more paragraphs hiding with the hangers on that one. I'm just not ready yet, you know? That's what the fags say, right?
Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick! I've heard of people talking to themselves, in circles, and out of their asses before but never did I think I'd see someone do all three at once. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was me! Is that one of those explosive combinations? You know, like poprocks and coke or sneezing, burping, and farting all at the same time? Am I going to die? I'm sure somebody out there wants me dead...like about everybody reading this right now.
Cripes! As The Mask would say, "somebody stop me!" ...God, that leaves a bad taste in my mouth (and here we return to the gay theme I thought I had managed to lose pages ago, unfortunately, I have found that it is a recurring motif in my life...strange). Don't get me wrong, I think Jim Carrey's swell, he always has such nice hair...uh...and funny! People tell me I remind them of him all the time, so I shouldn't really knock him, but The Mask was frickin' bad. Lame. Stinkola. Gay. I am, however, told that the comic books are really violent and totally sweet super killer radical. But I don't dabble in that shit no mo'.
Onward! For the love of God! Now I'm going to try desperately to finally explain to you why I got started with that hypocrisy nonsense and what exactly I hope to accomplish by having a gay, whiny emo loser kid blog. First off, some people reading this will note and probably make a special point to remind me that I was always the first one to condemn the whole idea of personal blogs, often times writing lengthy harangues about why they're so stupid, self centered, worthless, and unoriginal (anybody who actually makes a special point to remind me about that will now, of course, have to be destroyed...keep that in mind before something like say...a bullet or even better, a copy machine finds itself there). This is where the hypocrisy comes in. I have in fact, acquired for myself the exact thing which I supposedly stood entirely against. Now here is where the statement of intent comes in. I want to write, and a website sort of thing is the perfect outlet for that want, but as some of you may know my old brainchild got canned after almost two years and I've never been so good with working under someone. I have no server space and no desire to pay for one, so I'm taking the most minimalistic (that's a fancy term for "easy road out" that the artsy types use to fool the unsuspecting) route. I want to be able to concentrate on writing and not on fixing HTML errors, or toiling away on graphics and CGI scripts. Understand though, that I am not writing about my daily routines or which friend stabbed me in the back and how I've been thinking about making draino milkshakes. This is not going to become one of those run of the mill, angsty "why do the jocks keep violating me under a towel in the locker room and smearing pudding on my pants in the cafeteria" teenage blogs. You'll never see me writing about how the hottest girl in school told me I was a queer because I like wearing Dragonball Z t-shirts. That's simply ridiculous. I got rid of all those t-shirts a long time ago. But in all seriousness, my life doesn't suck, and if I did I would 1) not be self centered enough to think that people would actually care enough to read it and 2) I would be damn sure to fix it instead of typing about my problems so some faceless names out in internetland can sadistically jack off to my situation in life. I'm serious, people actually do that, I walked in on it once. Simply horrifying. It was like a train wreck...with cellulite.
So basically, I want this to a place that is focused on writing whatever I want and about whatever comes to mind. I was originally going to call it "Relatively Free Association". It is indeed going to be like free association, as you can probably see from what has already been written. The whole idea came to me when my friend's mother read all the articles I wrote for this year's yearbook and told me, "I really enjoyed your yearbook, it was so funny. You have a very interesting writing style, that free association kind of thing. It's like you're entertaining yourself in your head," in a Long Island accent. I haven't quite figured out how to translate a Long Island accent into text, I could try, but the results would be worse than trying to vomit against the pull of gravity. "Relatively" Free Association sounded hip, like social commentary and truly, it wasn't going to be completely free because I've got to rock this stupid banner ad up top and you have to wade through painfully long tirades to get to it. Hah, sucks to your assmar. Ultimately, I think "Something Like Tripe" describes this site far better though. For those that don't know, tripe is defined as "the rubbery lining of the stomach of cattle or other ruminants." ...Oh yeah, and the informal definition is "something of no value; rubbish." And now everybody goes "aaaah, okay," and nods their heads.
...I think I'm going to have to release cliffnotes. I'm such a blabber mouth. My grade school teachers always did call me "a chatterbox"...those fools! Mindless automatons! They could never understand my machinations! ...I'm really going to have to discipline myself here...or perhaps...create a device that strangles me every time I start typing too mu- urk! Ch-oking...
But seriously folks, I can't make any promises about not being a hypocrite but I'll at least try to cut down on the wordy free association. That was a blatant lie. Great...now I'm a liar too. But hey! Who are you to judge me?! At least I'm not gay!
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