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Hey everyone!! I've decided to add some of my crappy pictures and I'm anxious to know what you think! So leave a comment or if you read one of my blogs, feel free to give in two cents. I love a good, nonsense arguement. I am french....(No offense to any other frenchies out there. Vive la France! or whatever....)
Jamy's spaceNovember 21 God's Gift to WomenAlright, pre-insanity Tom Cruise, we get the point. You're good looking, have a sexy body,and a full head of hair. That's all fine and dandy but I hate to point out that your full head of hair and sexy bod won't last forever. Hell, give it thirty to forty years and you'll be lucky to have a full set of teeth that aren't in a glass beside your bed.
you are going to get old, be full of wrinkles, and loose some hair (and gain some). Don't bother walking around now with a cocky step and "world beating" attitude because we know by the roots it ain't natural. You can't hide four layers of gel, an artificial tan, and two hours a day, six days a week at the gym.
You can wrap a dog turd in tinsel but underneath its, still, just a dog turd.
Maybe, instead of all the time at the gym, try getting a personality so conversations don't sound like, Hey baby, wanna check out my car? Or, better yet, check out a shop class or two so that you realize a vamped up Honda Civic is NOT a hot car. No matter what kind of fin, neon lights, or over-priced and under watted sound system it's got.
Most people aren't dumb, and we can smell bullshit like a shark smells blood in the water. So don't come around, flexing your muscles and running off with your silver tongue because we know it's just that you want something. News flash: you're as smooth as sandpaper and the only charm you got is if it's the name of your cologne.
Probably an expensive, over-hyped vintage like Sex Panther. 60% of the time, it works all the time. Solitary ConfinementI haven't written one of these for a very long time. But now I've found new purpose in life and well...here it goes....
When you spend a lot of time by yourself, you get a lot of time to think. Sometimes, more often than not, there's nothing to preoccupy yourself with and you find your mind drifting into dangerous territory. That scary place of self-realization and life contemplation. It's philosophical, subconcious, and if you don't do it right 100% bullshit.
In order to see the truth, you have to be able to accept it for truth. People generally won't see the obvious if it looks poorly upon them. That's not true, it can't be beause if it is I'm a douche bag. It's hard for most people to admit when they're wrong or acting lie complete and total retards.
But once in a while, when you're on the verge of an emotional low, sitting alone in the shallow, empty hole of your apartment or home. In the darkness, there's a glimmer of realization and a whisper of truth. For most though, this method of self-help doesn't work because it takes too freaking long.
So I'm calling every manner of douche bag, retard, asshole, and bastard to the carpet. If you find yourself fitting into any of the following categories then shame on you. You should be drug out into the street and shot. Better realize the truth for what it is now, then have someone fix it for you later. April 24 Shackles of the oldWell, it's me again. I know, God, it's been forever since I put anything on here. I guess I've been wrapped up a little bit and busy, contemplating my life as I know it. Lets list the things I know about me, shall we.
1.) I'm single
2.) I'm unemployed at the moment
3.) I'm broke
4.) I don't have a life.
That's something. To all you kids out there that are aspiring to be just like me, you'll never be able to live up to those standards. Unless of course, you quit trying. Ha ha ha..oh boy, that's pathetic. I guess, if I really wanted to depress myself I'd read a romance novel. Don't they just make you sick? How predictible are those things? I bet you, out of all the romance novels I've read, most of them go something akin to this;
-- Said heroine, doesn't want to get married, ends up falling in lust with hero and they have hot, frantic sex. And upon continuing said physical relationship, she falls in love with him. Hero, the definition of a man, wants nothing to do with said Heroine and after the relationship begins to get a little too serious, cuts and runs. But when he leaves, only spends so much time before he discovers how much he truly loves her and cannot live without her. Insert disaster here _______________________. This disaster can be something from a kidnapping or murder plot, the more twisted the better. And he runs to her rescue, thus declaring his love and ending the story. Either that or she gets pregnant and finally tells him.
Isn't that a load of hooey. It's nothing like real life where the guys get on, get off, and get lost. How much I'd love yon definition of a man ( complete with bulging muscles, handsome face, hot accent, and morals that would only rival superman), to swoop into my little town and sweep me off my feet like what happens in those books. Instead, I get Terry Toothless with his sexy suspenders and shit on his boots. I can barely contain myself just thinking about it.
**** NEW FEATURE**** Quote of the Month
"I wish some beautiful, rich, heir to an empire would move out here. Who happens to be a really bad judge of character." --C.R.
"And maybe she'll have a sister." --R.L. January 22 Say What?Now I was thinking the other day about those old wars they used to have where the two sides would march up to each other, standing about thirty feet apart before stopping, and face off for a duel to the death. If I were indeed a soldier in this army, I'd of been a little more...realistic...then these people were. What, in the name of all that's Holy, possesses someone to stand thirty feet from an enemy and fire at each other? I'd be standing there, kinda looking around...lean into the next guy, "Hey, what's going on? Peace Talks? Why are we so close?" "Ready!" Ready?! What the hell is going on here? Ready for what? "AIM!" Aim?! I don't gotta aim! He's close enough I can see the whites of his eyes and as a matter of fact, he's been drinking because he looks a little bloodshot. "Fire!" FIRE! Fuck no! There'd be one little soldier bobbing and weaving through the lines to escape the madness and I'm proud to say that the little coward would be me. You ask me to march within poking distance of the enemy and stand there like a chicken while they shoot at us, and you better shoot me because I'm running. I'll fight from the trees, the hills, the grassy knoll, but I'm not going anywhere within spitting distance. Which brings me to my next topic: Ramming Speed. What the hell is ramming speed? Is it defined as the speed you attain in order to inflict as much damage as possible to the object that deserved ramming? Now, call me crazy but I'm thinking that if you're ramming someone it's going to hurt you just as much. This is an old sailing thing, when they had the great sea battles in times of old. You're out, in the middle of the ocean, and the captain yells two words that make you want to puke or commit mutiny, "Ramming speed!" Ramming speed? Uh, no thank you sir. I'll just take one of them little liferafts and be on my way, or better yet I'll make one from your desk if we don't have any. Throw in Stinky Pete's leg too while we're at it, just of a little insurance. January 03 Tis the season of madnessWell, doesn't this make me a liar. And here I said that there'd be no more blogs, but everybody knows that I can't keep my opinions to myself. Tis the season for engagements...I think the whole world's gone crazy. First Heather...now Shaun...it's disgusting. Jere in February...everybody's dropping like flies and diving from the frying pan into the fire. What's the big hurry to be miserable? Everyone knows that once you get married, the honeymoon's over. If you're having so much damned fun just being in love, don't ruin it by adding restrictions...chains if you will. That's all rings are, links in a chain. You're chaining yourselves together and pretty soon the warden will lead you out to the fields for a days work. IF you're lucky, the shotgun might even get left at home. Now, don't get my wrong. Yes, marriage is a sacred and beautiful thing...I just don't see what everyone's rush is. It's like rushing to a department store just to stand in line and wait for a cashier to open. HURRY UP AND WAIT! Sure, it's all exciting when you're on your way there...the anticipation and splendor of things to come...but once you get there and it's all said and done, you're thinking, "Was that it?" But that's okay, I'm happy for everyone. YAY! Happy happy joy joy. I'm buying everyone a Safe sex handbook, because nobody's kid likes to grow up knowing that he/she was the mistake. |
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