After Me, There Should Be No More
Rappers have it down. They just sing about how freaking sweet they are, how their ability to rap about how sweet they are is unmatched by other rappers, and the crimes they have committed or are willing to commit--and then wait for the money to roll in. I wish I could just write here about how awesome I am, and how other blogs can't match the awesomeness of mine, and then big bags of cash would fall into my arms. That'd be spectacular.
First I'd need a sweet blog I guess, and my blog, as I think you'll agree, is a piece of shiat. For one, I don't update it much lately. I'm still busy at work, and loving it. The start of term rush has died down, but lately I've been working like mad on some adjustments and additions to the way departments submit new courses--I'm trying to make it paperless. Anyway, I haven't put anything out, and that is the first sign of a shiatty blog. Secondly, I have nothing meaningful to contribute--I believe the day Katrina hit, I wrote about losing faith in a God who would allow my sewage ejection pump to break. Nice one, self.
Still, knowing I have nothing meaningful to contribute puts me ahead of a large number of bloggers, who are convinced that their thoughts and opinions on current events are actually valued in some way or even noticed by the internet community. Maddox wrote a pretty amusing bit which covers that phenomenon, and he's about 700 times more clever than I am, so I'll just forward you on and end this paragraph right here.
So that said, even though my blog is clearly a large piece of feces (pronounced FEK-uhs), I think I'll hold onto it for a while. I find it to be a great way to keep in touch without the hassle of actually keeping in touch. If I emailed all my old buddies every day with the boring-ass details of my life, they'd probably punch me in the eye...but they'll read it here, suckers! And I'll read theirs--it's like a big awesome message board where no one is particularly shy to talk about anything--which brings me to my most painful shot to the nuts.
Every guy has gotten nailed--really nailed--in the nads at least once; most several times to varying degrees of pain. My worst was a water bottle. Actually my worst was the stair-racing accident, but that was more of a long-term wrecking, and not specifically directed at the nuts, and far too horrible to be put in writing anyway. So back to the water bottle...I was playing tennis with Andrea and asked her to toss me the water bottle, and she thought it'd be funny to just wing it at me--and it would have been, had it not jacked me straight in the manhood. It doesn't sound like a water bottle could cause a lot of damage, but it might as well have been a mace. I've gotten wrecked in the nuts a few times--bike seats, monkey bars--and this was something very special. I could probably injure myself worse, but I'd have to use a vice grip or fire. Somehow, there was a ricochet involved, and bits and pieces were whipping into other bits and pieces and--uuhhhghgh...I'm getting queasy just thinking about it. Actually, looking back on it, it was funny. Water bottle just flying at my crotch from 30 feet away, next thing I know I'm writhing on the ground in agony. I swear, I could actually taste the pain. Haha! Classic.
ND football is back, of course. Cock came back in for the game, so that was pretty awesome. I haven't seen the Irish look so good in a long time--perfect for my little niece's first ND football experience. 14 weeks old and already a rabid Irish fan--and you won't see any wee cheerleader outfits on her, she's going to be a QB. Check her out, she's already practicing her throwing motion...and when my brother tried to take that football away from her, she bit his ear off.
And on the subject of football--if anyone else needs a place to stay for MSU, you might as well pile in with us. We somehow grossly overbooked the condo, potentially cramming in 13 people, and more bodies with no sleeping space can only add to the hilarity. I'm thinking of turning off the AC and hiding all the soap to maximize everyone's discomfort, so come on in and bring your BO with you--it's going to be a hell of a party.
First I'd need a sweet blog I guess, and my blog, as I think you'll agree, is a piece of shiat. For one, I don't update it much lately. I'm still busy at work, and loving it. The start of term rush has died down, but lately I've been working like mad on some adjustments and additions to the way departments submit new courses--I'm trying to make it paperless. Anyway, I haven't put anything out, and that is the first sign of a shiatty blog. Secondly, I have nothing meaningful to contribute--I believe the day Katrina hit, I wrote about losing faith in a God who would allow my sewage ejection pump to break. Nice one, self.
Still, knowing I have nothing meaningful to contribute puts me ahead of a large number of bloggers, who are convinced that their thoughts and opinions on current events are actually valued in some way or even noticed by the internet community. Maddox wrote a pretty amusing bit which covers that phenomenon, and he's about 700 times more clever than I am, so I'll just forward you on and end this paragraph right here.
So that said, even though my blog is clearly a large piece of feces (pronounced FEK-uhs), I think I'll hold onto it for a while. I find it to be a great way to keep in touch without the hassle of actually keeping in touch. If I emailed all my old buddies every day with the boring-ass details of my life, they'd probably punch me in the eye...but they'll read it here, suckers! And I'll read theirs--it's like a big awesome message board where no one is particularly shy to talk about anything--which brings me to my most painful shot to the nuts.
Every guy has gotten nailed--really nailed--in the nads at least once; most several times to varying degrees of pain. My worst was a water bottle. Actually my worst was the stair-racing accident, but that was more of a long-term wrecking, and not specifically directed at the nuts, and far too horrible to be put in writing anyway. So back to the water bottle...I was playing tennis with Andrea and asked her to toss me the water bottle, and she thought it'd be funny to just wing it at me--and it would have been, had it not jacked me straight in the manhood. It doesn't sound like a water bottle could cause a lot of damage, but it might as well have been a mace. I've gotten wrecked in the nuts a few times--bike seats, monkey bars--and this was something very special. I could probably injure myself worse, but I'd have to use a vice grip or fire. Somehow, there was a ricochet involved, and bits and pieces were whipping into other bits and pieces and--uuhhhghgh...I'm getting queasy just thinking about it. Actually, looking back on it, it was funny. Water bottle just flying at my crotch from 30 feet away, next thing I know I'm writhing on the ground in agony. I swear, I could actually taste the pain. Haha! Classic.
ND football is back, of course. Cock came back in for the game, so that was pretty awesome. I haven't seen the Irish look so good in a long time--perfect for my little niece's first ND football experience. 14 weeks old and already a rabid Irish fan--and you won't see any wee cheerleader outfits on her, she's going to be a QB. Check her out, she's already practicing her throwing motion...and when my brother tried to take that football away from her, she bit his ear off.
And on the subject of football--if anyone else needs a place to stay for MSU, you might as well pile in with us. We somehow grossly overbooked the condo, potentially cramming in 13 people, and more bodies with no sleeping space can only add to the hilarity. I'm thinking of turning off the AC and hiding all the soap to maximize everyone's discomfort, so come on in and bring your BO with you--it's going to be a hell of a party.
Post a Comment
9:58 PM, September 08, 2005
Post a Comment