I'm an uninteresting son of a gun.

Don'tcha think?

So I haven't updated like I said I was going to. Sue me... It's not that I can't think of any goofy story to tell, because I have oodles and oodles of them. A plethora, if you will, of stories. But for some odd reason, the couple of hours a day I spend sitting at the computer, writing wacky stories for the six people that actually view my blog, (is there even six???) just doesn't appeal to me very much.

Sure, not every blog can be a super popular blog where I get thirty to fourty-five posts per entry, and everyone loves me and all the ladies want to have my children. Would be nice though, I think. As I type this, it's gotten the ol' wood burning inside my brain, and I think I've come up with a way to get some much needed attention for my little slice of paradise...

Now wrap your minds around this... You know those people who stand outside of Wal-Mart and like, drug stores and crap ringing a bell, trying to collect money for the Red Cross... Or is it the Salvation Army??? Whatever, you know who I'm talking about. ANYWAY, my plan is to get one of those signs that people wear outside of stores as they walk around handing out flyers and coupons to whatever business hired them. And what I'll do is stake out the places where the bell ringers are, and with my trusty sign, coupled with their vigorous ringing of the bell, I will hand out flyers with my blog's address printed on them!

That should drum up SOME traffic... Don't you think?

Photos coming when I get my camera fixed, and enough money for a few hundred flyers...

To pass more time!

Sorry, Cats and Kittens

For my lack of posting in these passed few days.

Well, I'm working on my letter to send to Tarantino about casting Van Damme in the starring role of his next movie.

Quick life update... I've taken more tylenol than any human is supposed to take before their liver fails. I now hate Football ... HATE IT... The next time I take a punch in the face, I'm freaking out and killing someone! Plus I had some burly dude totally drop his shoulder and hit me in the face when he was running at full speed. NOT FUN.

But the excellent touchdown passes I threw, were excellent. Of course that was before I got my friggin brain scrambled.

George Strait /slash/ A Fight To The Death???

Cuz All My Ex's Live In Texas...

So far tonight, in the thirty three minutes I've been at the computer, I've listened to George Strait's "All My Ex's" a total of fifteen times. Or at least I'm pretty sure it's been fifteen. And with each listen, it keeps getting better and better! I mean, it's not like I've listened to it, then put another song on, then went back. It's been non-stop George Strait MADNESS!!!! It's so cool being me. I think I just may be the only twenty-three year old man on the planet that likes this song. Which is cool. And if I'm not, don't tell me! Ignorance is BLISS! Ya hurrd?

Or, and I forgot to tell you guys... Two days ago, I got into a fight with a MANTIS. Yeah, it was right above my doorway and it freaked me out when I was sweeping off the front steps. So I swatted it down with my broom, and I proceeded to swat the ever living crap out of it! And wouldn't ya know, those things are TOUGH! It took the first one, and then tried to get up, but I think I broke it's legs, so it couldn't get all the way up. So I hit it again, thinking that it had about all it could take. But no! This Mantis kept trying to get up! It must have been on PCP or something, because I hit it four times with a broom. I'm talking like, swinging the broom over my head and slamming it into it's carcass. It stopped moving, so I figured that it was dead, and continued on with my sweeping.

Once that was done, I had to tell my mom that I totally killed the crap out of a Mantis. She told me that they were an endangered species. My initial reaction was panic. I didn't know these things were endangered! Soon after, disbelief set in, and I questioned her. I said, "Yeah right!" Then she told me to ask my step father. He said no, but my jackolantern shirtted brother said that they were. That's two to one. Even though my brother is a bit of a dullard, I took his word for it. So then I started to feel pretty good. I killed an endangered species... "Stupid thing shouldn't have endangered me by hiding up by the doorframe!" I exclaimed in the back yard. Mother wanted to see the Mantis' body on the steps, so I took her to where it was...

And when we went to where the battle took place, it wasn't there... The Mantis... The DEAD Mantis... Was gone...

I look forward to our next battle...

Just a thought /slash/ About comments.

I wish I had a friend who drank turpentine… Just so I could know what it was like to know someone who drinks turpentine. Then I could try it and I could know what it’s like to drink turpentine. I bet it probably tastes like, well, probably bad, with a little mixture of pee, and some kind of unnamed chemical. It’d probably end up tasting like death though, because that’d probably be the end result of drinking it. But it sure would make for the best six and a half minutes of my life, or at least that last six and a half minutes.


You can now post whenever you want, and you don't have to have an account here to do it.

So feel free to comment until your heart stops!

A Van Damme State Of Mind.

And no, it's not a cocaine induced hallucination!

For some strange reason, I found myself conversing with myself about how great Jean Claude Van Damme was. Weird, I know. But these are the kinds of things I think about from time to time.

Van Damme was the shit back in the late 80's and early to mid 90's. Bloodsport was absolutely radical, and I think it still holds up as one of the best martial arts films ever. Oh sure, some of it pales in comparison to all that wire-fu Hong Kong stuff that's put out today. But let's face it, the Muscles From Brussels didn't NEED that crap to be awesome. He had his trademark spin kicks and Bolo Yeung! I mean, the fights he had with Bolo were absolutely awesome! Especially in Double Impact. Oh man was Double Impact a great flick... I mean, TWO VAN DAMME'S FOR THE PRICE OF ONE! You can't get much better than that. He's tried! hahaha

But after that, I was thinking about where Van Damme is now... Last time I saw anything on him, he was doing kicks for a camera on one of those celebrity uncensored Television shows. I thought about that, and then I got a little depressed... Van Damme was one of my heroes growing up. Shoot, I used to think I was a karate expert because I watched Van Damme movies! It really hurt to think that my hero was a washed up coke addict...

But then I had an epiphany... I found a way to ressurect the career of Jean Claude Van Damme. There's only one man in Hollywood brave enough to put Van Damme back on the big screen...

And that man is...





QUENTIN TARANTINO (See, he's point at Van Damme right now!)


I firmly believe that if there's anyone on the planet that can ressurect the greatness that Van Damme once had, it's Quentin Tarantino. I'm gonna have to start a petition, or write a letter or something.

I'm gonna get on that, pronto.

See anything messed up /slash/ bank robbery

Yup. So here it is, by popular demand! My blog. This is where I keep track of all of my nonsense...

It took me nearly forever to get the colour scheme right... Or should I say, what I think is right. Or, what goes with that nifty little photoshop image I made! So if you come across something that doesn't look right, leave me a comment so that I can check it out and wrack my brain trying to find out which stupid color code it belongs to.

Hopefully this font is ok...


Here's some healthy reading before I make my next post. The super mega collossal brainwave post.

Enjoy...


A few years ago, my friend Eric and I, on one cold and boring February morning had this idea. We were going to rob a bank. We had pretty well everything planned out as well. All we needed to know was, “Which major metropolitan bank were we going to hit?” We never came to that conclusion. But let’s just say that City “A” had a major bank in their downtown district, which just so happens to be across the street from said bank, is a coffee shop. That’s the starting point. That’s where we start from when we go to rob it. We’ll have none of this underground drilling bullshit. That’s for the pussies of the bank robbing business.

And no, we aren’t pussies.

No no, we were going to do something much cooler than drilling under a building and robbing it from the inside. It would just be too easy. You see, we were going to map out different spots on City A’s map. And whichever buildings corresponded with the spots on the map, were going to be rigged with explosives. And just to be on the safer side, not to be labeled as terrorists, we would try to keep the explosives away from the public highschools and residential areas of the city. We’d blow up warehouses, things of that nature where there would be as few casualties as possible. But then, the next day, after every building was rigged. We would sit in the coffee shop across the street from our target, and we would wait. And since technology has provided us with a way to turn a simple cellular telephone into a detonator, we would simple dial a number and building one would go up in a ball of fire and all things associated with exploding stuff. Then, after the proper authorities are called in to investigate the whole thing, we dial the second number on our handy dandy cellular teledetonator and we would reduce explosion point B to nothing but a similar ball of fire and metal and whatever it is that happened to point A. Followed closely by point C, which will be a point kind of out of the way, so the fire fighters and policemen have just that much farther to drive in order to put the fire out and do whatever it is policemen do when faced by these kinds of situations. We also thought about starting a forest fire in the woods near one of the city’s suburban areas, but that would have broken the rule of not blowing up things near residential areas…

So after the three explosions, there would be mass hysteria because there have been more than one explosion ion the span of maybe sixteen to twenty-three minutes. And once everything has been declared a gigantic fucking mess, we would run out of our coffee shop hideout, across the street, and into the bank, where we would proceed to get the people to open the safe, put the money in these burlap bags with green dollar signs on them, (gotta look like professionals one way or another), then, once everything was done, we would kill the witnesses in the bank, just because they would be able to give elaborate descriptions of our attire and whatnot. And then we would leave the bank, hop into a lime green 1972 Pinto hatchback, and drive away, successful.

But there is a slight problem with our master plan of robbing this bank. We both lacked the monetary funds to be able to come close to achieving the ultimate goal of robbing the motherfucker’s blind. We thought about asking our parents for a start, using an ever so clever ruse to trick them into giving us the money. We would say that we were going to go on a trip. But then we realized that there would be no way they would believe us. And besides, I was already asking my mom for money every time I turned around, so that was out of the question, and Eric’s parents were out buying “coffee” all the time.

That’s the secret code word… Figure it out and I’ll mail you a dollar.

And really, any money that would have been given to us from our parents would have gone to the coffee that we bought while sitting in the shop waiting for the shit to hit the fan. So we needed another financial wizard to give us our seed money. We couldn’t find, or rather, didn’t bother to look. Who in their right fucking mind is going to give two teenage guys the money to go rob a bank? We realized that we can’t get money without money, so we gave up on our dream to rob a bank… But we still kept the idea, and that’s what counts. I once told it to a friend of mine; he told me that it was a really good idea. I was flattered; I didn’t think that anyone would think that an idea for robbing a bank would be a good one. Then he told me to shut up and stop talking to people about it. I guess he thought that it was too good of an idea to let out into the open so freely like that. Then again, he was kind of a moron.

There’s a lesson to be learned here kids, when you plan to rob a bank, don’t plan too hard. It gets too expensive, and you’ll end up owing all of what you gained back to the people who supported your efforts, unless they’re the type of person who didn’t care if you paid them back. Then go for it. Make as much of a bang as humanly possible. What’s the worst that can happen?



As an aside... There's part of me that wants to call this thing the "KarBlog." A blatant rip off of the MBlog, naturally. But they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, don't they?