i had a dream that i was hauling ass through the back streets and alleys of some random city with a girl i did not know.  we were carrying my tv.  towards the end, a strange man started following us.  we went into the apartment building next to mine in an attempt to confuse him.  he followed us, where he proceeded to tell us we were behind on rent.  after he left, we went to my apartment building, but could not get up to my floor, because the elevator was being repaired, and there were no stairs.  i wish i had written it down when i remembered more of it. 

 strange thing is, a month ago i moved into this apartment, in the ghetto, and the elevator in the building is broken.  however, i have not been behind on the rent (yet), and i dont know who the random girl or guy was.  i hope my tv doesnt get stolen…

if cars are backed up on the highway, due to a truck losing some of its load, why the fuck do you need to take the exit, then re-enter, attempting to bypass the traffic, and actually just backing up traffic farther when you try to merge back in? 

asshats.

forget the fact that its a talking elephant.  no, wait.  dont forget it.  why the hell is it a talking elephant?  its not a cartoon, its a commerical.  for a real product; an air freshener.  why not just use a human?  cause elephants have a long “nose”, and can smell the bad smells?  fuck it.  forget it.

instead, why the fuck is the elephant married to a centipede?  because the centipede has lots of “feet”, and wears lots of shoes, which stink, so its the ideal relationship for air fresheners?  i dont get it.

 how do they fuck?  the entire centipede, and 20 other centipedes, could probably crawl in there, and the elephant wouldnt feel a thing. 

who gets paid to think this shit up?

sometimes, my roommate stores a roasting pan in the oven. due to it’s size, it is probably the best place for it.

however, i usually forget to take it out before preheating the oven. then, when i go to put the food in, i have to pull the very hot pan out. and tonight, i burned my finger.

maybe this will help me remember next time.

i understand that i was in a gay bar. i have no problem with that. it was by far the best karaoke book i have ever seen, and there were some great singers.

but did you really have to blatently look at my penis, TWICE, while at the urinals? maybe it’s customary, and i just didn’t realize it. i didn’t see signs, so i’m unsure of protocol. maybe next time i’ll ask.

i’m so tired, but i never want to sleep. i drink too often and stay up far too late at night. i’m always so tired during the day, yet i’m ready to go out every night. i lay awake in bed at night, and lay in bed for too long each morning. the alarm is only a warning call, and i hit snooze at least three times. i am always five minutes late to work, yet i will never wake up five minutes earlier….

i really thought it would get better once school was over. but it has nothing to do with school. it’s a way of life. it’s a need to be entertained, to have fun, to enjoy life, friends, and good times.

i’ll rest when i’m dead. and that will be here before i know it. until then, SFP! now GTB!

a few weeks after my 10th birthday, i started having chest pains. after many trips to the doctor, it was determined that i had a heart defect. i needed to have surgery to fix it. i was nervous about the surgery, as any 10 year old would be. i told my best friend to take care of my hamster if i died during surgery.

i woke up early on the day of the surgery. i was hungry, as i had not been able to eat the night before. my mom promised she would fix whatever i wanted for dinner when i got home from the hospital. i pondered what i would want during the drive to the hospital.

the nurse led me in to the room where i changed into the hospital garb. i layed in the bed, and they asked me a few questions as they gave me a shot and hooked up the i.v. i dont really remember much after that, but they later told me i chatted for a minute, and then passed out.

the first thing i saw after awaking from the surgery were many balloons and flowers. my favorite were the g.i. joe ballons that said “get well soon!” on them. my mom noticed i was awake, and asked how i was feeling. “tired” was all i could manage. my mom asked if i needed anthing. i shook my head and fell back asleep.

when i awoke again, i asked my mom who the g.i. joe balloons were from. she told me the card said “from sophia”. SOPHIA! sweet sophia. she was popular, beautiful, and cheerful. i pined for sophia, but i was always too shy to talk to her. but she sent me balloons! i started feeling better immediately. i vowed that as soon as i was better, i would talk to her. the balloons were my in! i liked g.i. joe, and i liked sophia. it all made sense.

five weeks later, my first day back at school, i eagerly awaited talking to sophia. she was in my grade, but was not in my class this year. i had to wait until recess to see her. i slowly walked to the playground, and spotted emily on the swingset. i walked over to her and waited for her to finish swinging.

i muttered a shy “hi sophia”, trying to get her attention. she turned around, looking confused and responded “what?”. “i said hi. actually, i just wanted to thank you for the ballons you sent me. i really like g.i. joe. and knowing that you sent them…. well, i really believe that it helped me heal faster.”

“um, yeah. i think my mom sent them. what was wrong with you?”

no. no. no. its all wrong. she didnt send them. of course she didnt send them, she is 11 years old. she didnt even know what was wrong with me. i didnt respond. i couldnt. i couldnt speak. my heart was broken, and no surgery could fix it. i stood there, speechless, until she said “creeper”, and walked away.

the school year ended a month later. sophia moved away that summer. i never saw her again. i hope she died.