today my bed is my island, and i'm not leaving. just like most of this week already. someone remind me why being a sloth is a bad thing? so... glorious... p.s. unless you cover the world with memory foam and down feathers, you can't make me leave.
8. 8 is the number of things i wanted to write down today but forgot. All i could remember was the amount of times I couldn't remember. 8 says "eat your vegitables, boys and girls."
"think it would be free, i just need to set it up." "well, having a server on at all times, it'll boost our electricity bill, won't it?" "yeah, probably." "So last night you lost your keys because you were too drunk on half priced booze, and then broke the door bell." "Yep. Sorry about that." "It's okay, we just need to replace the battery." "Well, what kind of battery is it??" "I have no idea, I've never seen this kind before." "Canadian tire, here we come." (some of this conversation did not actually happen in reality. Some of it happened in my head. The very same head that is going to fail my calculus exam tomorrow. Yes, the very same. End bracket.
this useless piece of conversation is brought to you by the letter T. Oh T, how glorious you are. Let me count thy ways. Or maybe not. Why oh why, Mr. Internets, do you choose to be so slow? Here I am, trying to download some innocent lesbian porn, and you just HAVE to take your sweet ass time. Well, FUCK YOU, Mr. Internets. I shall create a new method of downloading porn. I just need Macgyver. He'll know what to do. With his random household objects. I wonder if he's dead. Probably. Most people are dead these days. And so I procrastinate further into oblivion. Down the rabbit hole, if you will. Quick, Mr. Rabbit, tell Mr. Internets to hurry the fuck up, so that I may download my dirty habit (which rhymes with rabbit) faster. This post is definitely getting deleted.
any other person would have just done to see their mother. Maybe given her some flowers and a card. Mothers are simple creatures, and are easy to please. But not mine. My mom asked for something very special for her birthday. Not every mother asks for something like this. My mom asked me to get my energy healed. And of course, to come home and have dinner and cake with the family. But it didn't stop there. Oh no! The second I got off the bus, my mom was waiting for me. Lovingly waiting. To take me to anglican church. Now, let it be understood that no one in my family is anglican. After a nice sunday afternoon service, where I had to constantly resist the urge to scratch my eyeballs out, we went home. My brother and I celebrated old times by doing eachother's homework. Yeah, he's a genuis. He completed my computer program writing assignment, while I coloured in a map of North America for him. He's 15. After that, everything was normal. The table was set, we sat down to dinner, we chanted the word 'HU' to the Eckankar God of light and sound who lives in Minneapolis Minnasota, and had chocolate cake for dessert. The next day, we all had to be up at 9am, becuase Kim the Australian healer was coming. He looked like an average person, except he was dressed in all white clothes. Then we had to go and hide in our rooms while he cleansed the house of bad spirits. It took about 3 hours. He put on a native headband and bracelettes, as well as a trendy looking pink and green belt with tassles. Then he lit some incense in a gold bowl on a chain, and ran around the house at top speed waving it around. The insence gave me a headache, and smelled similar to the stuff they use in church at the alter. Then he took out a torch, lit it on fire, and frollicked around the house some more waving that around too. He was thorough. Like I said, it took 3 hours. After the house was cleansed of bad spirits, and completely filled with insense smoke, it was my turn to have my aura cleaned. He asked me stand in a triangle that he outlined on our living room floor in blue masking tape. The next 45 munutes I did my best to block out, but I remember a great deal of him muttering and burping. I think he has terrible stomach problems. He pretty much burped every 2 minutes. He asked me about my belief in god, and asked me to focus on any problems I was having in life. He had me chant my name and say that 'I am here' a whole lot. To say the least, it was an interesting day.
so apparently google knows all. Even where I work. Creepy. How is it that the information age is upon us, yet i still feel like i don't know much? Maybe it has nothing to do with the information itself... hmm.... concept of the week...