I'd like to congatulate the Sandy Eggo Chargers for successfully ruining my Sunday.

Good job guys.

My Les Paul.

Sundays are indeed awesome.

Even if I do have a bunch of homework to do for my one class next week.

I recommend psychiatric help immediately.

Good, I thought it was just me.

you're on your own there!

although in my defense, a good hug can solve just about anything.

except brain cancer (although I do have my theories regarding that one).

I was, but then everyone started noticing that all my advice involved hugging someone.

Yeah, well, I try to be humble. What can I say?

the obvious solution would be to—

woah, deja vu

You should be happy in the knowledge that you are more bad ass than I am, because I've still yet to experience a major accident or a major injury.

the obvious solution would be to leave missouri

Here's how to solve all of your problems.

Pretend to apologize to your parents and give them both nice, long hugs.

This way, you'll stop fighting, you'll get them sick from hugging them (which is satisfying to know after a fight), you'll get warmer, and then you can fall asleep knowing you have successfully solved your previous three problems.

clouds clouds clouds

i miss sandy eggo

yeah, well let me tell you about my roommate (copy and pasted from a thread I wrote on another forum a while back, because I'm too lazy to write about this incident again):

I could go for hours about how ridiculous my roommate is, but instead I'm just going to offer one example and skip over things like how he's been interesting in buying a digitcal camera for six months now, and goes on sites to read about specs every single day so he can make the perfect purchase. Or how he's afraid to start playing his guitar because he doesn't want the calluses to "ruin his hands, which he likes just the way they are" (his words, not mine). No, I'll just skip all those.

Okay, here's a general picture of last night.

Me: "Hey Justin, would you mind doing your dishes? They're kind of gross/"
Justin: "Why? You never use the table anyway."
Me: "Probably because your nasty week old dishes are covering it?"
Justin: "Whatever, I'll get around to it."
Me: "No, you won't."
Justin: "**** you."

This is actually a friendly exchange between us. We don't hate each other.

Anyway, the point is, the kitchen table was covered with his dishes, most of which had either spaghetti sauce from two to five days back on them or ketchup from any number of days ago. There was also a few greasy, fat covered trays that were left-over from microwaveable salzbury steak tv dinners.

So I wake up the next morning, expecting to see them still there, since this basically happens every week. However, to my great surprise, the table is complete clear. AWESOME. The plastic tv-dinner trays are in the trash. Also cool. I happily eat breakfast at it and proceed to go about the rest of my day.

Which brings us to 8:30 tonight, when I walk into the kitchen to get something to drink. My eyes incidently wander toward the table, when something under the table catches my eye.

Yeah, it's what you think it is. My roommate simply moved all his dirty dishes UNDER THE ****ING TABLE. His reasoning to this is simply, "well, they're not in your way now and you don't have to look at them."

I simply walked into my room speechless.

Please tell me I'm not being completely unreasonable.

ha! it ends!

now you all must disperse and speak different tongues

back

TRY ME

Well, I still want a garbage can that will open up to me once in a while. I've once been with a garbage can that had its lid closed the entire time. It was so frustrating!

What am I, your private dancer?!

I don't think so young lady!