Well I’m faced with the decision of do I or don’t I write today? I told myself I’d write and post something everyday (for who knows how long) but I feel I shouldn’t force myself to write if I’m going to write crap. But then again everything I’ve written previously to this day has been crap, so why should today be any different? And it’s with that that I’ve decided I will write today, whether it be crap or not. Now the reason I say it’s going to be crap is because I don’t have much time to write. I woke up at seven thirty this morning and I should have started writing then, but I waited two hours and now I’m forced to write some crap. I’m not even sure what the crap I’m going to write is. My sister Bonnie is going to be mad at me because I promised her I was going to write a story for her and I told her I was going to post it today, but as you can see this isn’t a story about my sister, otherwise there would be a lot more sex involved. I’m most assuredly going to have to explain to my sister why I didn’t write her story yet, and also why I wrote in the previous sentence that there would be a lot of sex in a story about her. Well to explain the second of the two: it was a joke.
I have to go take a shower pretty soon. I’d much prefer to take a bath but time is against me. Oh how I miss baths. I haven’t taken a bath in a while. The best I’ve ever slept was while in the bathtub. My naked body engulfed in almost boiling water (I bet that gets the readers hot). Sure there was always the worry of my head sinking under the water and drowning, but death is a chance I’m willing to take for the perfect slumber. I also need to shave. I mean I don’t need to shave but I should probably shave. As I’ve said many, many times, and will continue to say for the rest of my life, I grow facial hair terribly. My mustache just makes it look like I’ve got dirt on my upper lip. And I can’t look like I’ve got dirt on my face today, I’ve got a birthday party to attend to. Today one of my closest friends, David Ly, turns 22, the exact half way point in his life – On his 44th birthday he dies from auto-erotic asphyxiation (if you knew David you’d know how funny that actually is). But not only are we celebrating David’s birthday, we’re also celebrating Thai Son’s (who turned 22 on the 7th) and Meesha’s also (who turned 22 on the 2nd and won’t be attending this quasi-party).
Well I feel I should at least make mention that yesterday was the eighth anniversary of the celebration of 9/11 (celebration? We don’t celebrate 9/11) we don’t? Then what the hell do we do? (We mourn the victims of the terrorist attacks) really, because that sounds really depressing and it’s not like mourning them will make them feel any better. (Okay, first of all that was really inappropriate, and second, I think it’s more for the families of the victims). Now hear me out before you get angry, I would bet that either in one of the two towers, or on one of the airplanes, there was a bad person that probably deserved to die. You know, a guy who embezzled money from his company, beat his wife and kids, stepped on cat’s tails. I’m not saying that it was worth it to have all those other innocent good people die in order to kill the one bad person, but I’m not going to feel sorry for every single victim of 9/11. I want to know who all those people are before I start mourning them. The next Hitler could have been in one of the buildings. If so I’m not sad he’s dead. I’m sad the homosexual accountant who recycles who sat next to him is dead, but I’ll never be sad that Hitler 2 is dead. (Here’s something to think about, what if that homosexual accountant was Hitler 2?) Whoa, you’re blowing my mind. (That’ll shut him up for the day.)