I'm Sorry. I Really Like Iguanas.

I left work at 5:15, and I've only gone nine miles. I'm getting pretty fucking sick of this.

Maybe God's mad at me for making fun of His kid's pet iguana.

I'm Super Productive

This is what I accomplished during the general staff meeting. I'm a valuable employee, no?

Better Than Head

I literally tingle with excitement¹ when I look at this picture. Some people get the tinglies from some so-called "emotion" called "love." I get it from shoes and clear cases of idiocy. (I'm fully aware that this picture could have been made by someone mocking the idea that dinosaurs lived with humans, and I applaud this piece.) I tingle because, for a brief moment, it was posted with the dinosaur entry on Conservapedia. People actually believe this shit. Last time I checked, Jesus rode a donkey, not a Brontosaurus.²

I love it when people just set themselves up to be mocked and destroyed. When I have a clear shot at someone, I can't not take it. Usually, I need to maneuver and manipulate to get such an opportunity. Here, it's being laid out on a platter. I'm not going into all the creationism/evolution debate here, as there are plenty of people who make much better arguments, and I already got it all out of my system with my co-workers. The fact that people just offer themselves as target practice for my verbal artillery brings me endless pleasure.³ Very few things even come close.



¹ Not that kind of excitement, PERVERT.
² I'm also not remembering any passage about His pet iguana.
³ Ok, maybe there is a little bit of that excitement; but you're still a pervert.

The New Workout Plan

Does laboriously opening a(nother) box of girl scout cookies count as exercise? If so, I should be in shape in no time.

ADDENDUM
I have been told that it only counts if they are Thin Mints. I have Tagalongs, which might as well be named: Eat me, Fatty.

SRT #33

I was at some bar in Arlington over the weekend for a friend's birthday. So we're all hanging out, blah blah blah, and I wasn't really drinking since I planned on driving back home to Maryland and dropping people off at their respective homes. I note my lack of drinking only because I'm more accepting of dance in general if I'm at least a little drunk. Since I was sober, the amount of hate I generate in this particular area is greater than normal. Also, the more sober I am, the more clearly I remember things that confuse the hell out of me.

So when I got there, rap was ruling the place, which was quite funny because at least 90% of the patrons were white.¹ As the night wore one, the music got whiter and whiter, yet there was no change in the "style" of dance.² They were doing the basic (but off-beat) grind to Akon's I Wanna Fuck You, which is acceptable, but then continued to do that to Journey's Any Way You Want It. It doesn't make any sense. How does one even begin to dance to that song, much less grind to it? It is beyond my understanding.



¹ Now, I could simply comment on the strange seizures called "dancing" by the oppressors, but that's much too easy. That's about as challenging as picking on the retarded kid with no legs.
² I use the word "style" very loosely.