Rambling, Douchecanoes, & Tapeworms Named Seth

You’re in luck. Do you know why? It’s a Friday night, I’m completely sober, and I’m bored as fuck. That means that you get a rambling, pointless blog post from me.

Holy shit. Someone just revved up a motorcycle, or car, or helicopter outside and I’m about to go out and punch them in the throat. Nellie just went to bed.

Why do people have to be such douchecanoes? Like, I get that you have a vehicle with a motor. Do you really have to sit in the parking lot of an apartment complex and rev it? What are you trying to prove? I would like to wait until approximately 2 A.M., find where you sleep, creep into your room and bang cymbals directly in your face. Then spray you with silly string. Then run away laughing.

I really have nothing of importance to say here tonight. I ate half a thin crust pizza earlier and I’m still not full. I think I have a tapeworm. I think I’ll name it Seth. Seth is a good name for a tapeworm.

Seth is a wino.

Where was I? Oh, right. I’ve been trying to get off the internet for like, an hour now. I keep saying I’m going to go read and then I never do. My book is sitting right next to me, waiting for me to open it and read. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that Internet is seducing me with its’ wiles.

Speaking of douchecanoes, I just had to let my cat in. He is King Douchecanoe. In hindsight we should have named him that but instead we named him Hannibal.

Wow. This post has gotten really out of control and is pretty much just an excuse for me to screw around with Picnik. I think I need to go now.