Apparently the world is experiencing a lull in newsworthy stories. I have Yahoo! as my start page to check
out the top events currently happening across the world. The top three are
always about the Iraq conflict, suicide bombings in Israeli cafes, and the
latest entrant into the Presidential race of 200FO. And near the bottom are
usually important events happening in foreign nations, deaths of famous people,
and up to the minute sports scores. But these past three days I have noticed
three stories about animals. Stupid fucking stories that deserve no
acknowledgement especially on the front page of the Internet's most popular
website. So without further ado, here they are.
Creature Thought Extinct Found in Cuba
HAVANA - A living example of an insectivore native to Cuba — but believed for years to extinct — has been found in the island's eastern mountains, a Cuban news agency reported.
The discovery of the male insect-eating mammal known as an almiqui (pronounced ahl-mee-KEE) raises hopes "that it will not wind up in the catalog of the irretrievable animals disappearing from the face of the Earth," Prensa Latina said in reporting the discovery.
The creature looks like a brownish woolly badger with a long, pink-tipped snout and can measure up to about 19 inches, according to Prensa Latina's Monday dispatch.
The nocturnal animal burrows underground during the daytime, explaining why it is rarely seen by people. After the sun goes down, it emerges to root out worms, larvae and insects.
Named "Alejandrito" by the farmer who found it, the living almiqui weighed 24 ounces and veterinarians declared the animal in perfect health.
"Alejandrito" was held in captivity for two days of study and medical tests, then marked and let free in the same general area it was found, Prensa Latina said.
The almiqui was described for the first time in 1861 by the German naturalist Wilham Peters, who wrote of the difference between the Cuban animal and a similar one found in neighboring Haiti.
Since, only 37 of the animals known by the scientific name Solenodon Cubanus have been captured, including "Alejandrito."
The last reported sightings of the creatures were in 1972 in the eastern province of Guantanamo, and 25 years later in 1999 in the eastern province of Holguin.
Okay maybe there is reason why the Cubans have been hiding the existance of this monster. Maybe because the world already hates Cuba for communism, and they don't want to be known as the home of the world's most fuckingly ugliest animal in the history of the planet. Go back to extinction.
Lulu the Kangaroo Helps Save Farmer
MELBOURNE, Australia - An unlikely hero hopped onto the scene when a farmer suffered serious head injuries after being hit by a falling branch.
The hero? A partially blind pet kangaroo.
The eastern gray kangaroo, Lulu, stood guard over Len Richards' unconscious body Sunday and "barked like a dog" to get help, the farmer's daughter said.
"She was obviously trying to get our attention because she never acts like that," said Celeste Richards, 17.
"It went on for about 15 minutes, so we went outside to investigate and we saw Lulu standing upright with her chest puffed out over Dad's body. If it wasn't for her, my Dad could have died — Lulu is my hero," she added.
Richards, 52, was checking his property in Morwell, southeast Australia, for damage following a severe storm when he was struck by a falling branch and knocked unconscious.
The kangaroo, which has just one eye, was adopted by the family about 10 years ago when they found her in the pouch of her mother, who had been killed by a car.
"Lulu and Dad are very close and she follows him around, but we all just love her so much," Celeste said.
I like kangaroos. Hell, I guess I would give a blind kangaroo a chance. But a kangaroo named Lulu has just earned its spot in my bowl of potatos and gravy. It's going to be one hoppin' meal.
Dog's 12-Inch Ears Are World's Largest
LONDON - They drag into his food. Sometimes, he even trips over them. Now they're getting an earful of attention.
A basset hound whose grandfather gained fame as Biggles, the face of Hush Puppies shoes, has hit the limelight himself, making it into the new 2004 Guinness Book of World Records as the dog with the longest ears.
Guinness, which will publish its new edition of the book Thursday, issued a photo of Mr. Jeffries, Biggles' grandson, on Wednesday, showing the dog standing there with a hangdog expression and raised ears that look like the wings a Boeing 747.
Mr. Jeffries, whose full name is Knightsfollie Ladiesman, has ears that measured 11.5 inches on Nov. 3, 2002, Guinness said.
Owner Phil Jeffries, of Southwick, England, said his pet is more than just a hound dog. The dog's ears are insured for $47,800.
The new titleholder only managed to set the record when his long-eared granddad died last year, giving up his claim to the Guinness book.
That's not a basset hound. That's a mutt that swallowed a teradactyl.
Phew, that was quite a storm. Isabel knocked out power to millions of customers here in Virginia including mine. For some
reason my room in my apartment was the only room in all of Harrisonburg or even west of the Blue Ridge mountains that was
left powerless in the hurricane's wake. And that is the sole reason why I have not written anything on the site. The picture
above is the only known picture of me that was taken after the power was brought back on in my room. Yes, you guessed
right... even my 64 bit color digital camera was not spared by the tropical weather. So now that I'm back out of my closet and the
2-bit black and white monitor is all hooked up and ready to go, I am prepared to write.
Well crap, writer's block and plus I don't feel like writing anything. I am only writing for the sake of updating and I feel
obligated to not neglect this sweet child of mine after nurturing it, pampering it, devoting my life to it, and showing it
off to soccer moms for eighteen months running. I'm not going to really bother attempt to write something creative because
I'm not in a witty mood (see soccer mom comment above), and I don't want to force out second rated metaphors and analogies.
Such natural quick-witted writing talent oozes out of the pores of Dan
Who and Ryan Perry and Spooner. And Chad should be eating cheese and coke
instead of squatting on suppsotories for that shit should never leave his body. And then there's my roommate James who knows everything about everything, and Ryan who is another phenomenal ink slinger, film extradonair, and my long lost twin. So all of these writers
with roman spathas in their grasps versus me in my leotard galloping along with a sack of socks in this arena that we call
life. But remember kids, Davey slew Goliath. So everyone I just mentioned, don't be surprised to wake up with an ax between
your eyes.
Okay I am going to throw out random thoughts and advice.
The first person to say "Bless you" after a sneeze receives a free press pass into heaven. It's not sincere, it holds no
substance, it's expected by the sneezer, and it's quite a damn shame that we are obligated to say it when the only reason we
jump to spit it out is purely out of egocentricity. Stop.
Same with the door-holding policy. I don't want to rush to get to the door while I see you hold it for me, and I don't
want to hold it for you when you don't hurry up. Every man for himself.
Girls who do not have a somewhat normal running form should not be allowed to run around campus. Flailing arms and
chicken legs are meant to be kept in the dorm along side your extra sides of cake and diet pop. Don't worry about running
off the calories, it's all in the B&P baby. Binge and purge.
My nutrition teacher (make that all females) should never talk about how sugar-free gum may cause problems with diarrhea,
and she should not follow up that comment with a personal story. Especially with adjectives such as "explosive" and puns
such as "backfired".
Textbook companies need to lay off the diversification of the use of foreign names in their examples and excercises. I
never knew the name "Shanka" existed for a chick, and there are no "Rabula"'s on any college campus this side of the Rio
Grande. Or any college. ZING!
Any marching band member that is not in the credits of the movie "Drum Line" is a fucking dork. Making the mistake
between composer and conductor really is not that funny.
All stagehands for plays and concerts are required to wear all black so they don't draw attention and blend in with the
dark. Contrasting shades of black and navy blue do not match, but stagehands live to break the rules.
The gameshow "Friend or Foe" is still syndicated on the Game Show channel but should be cremated and swallowed. I wrote
a rant about this before but nobody gave a shit back then, so I will say it again. The object of the game is accumulate a
lot of money with a partner. Then you face off to see who gets the money. You can either pick friend or foe. Both pick
foe, nobody wins. Both pick friend, split the money. One picks friend, other picks foe, foe wins. Soo... keep the
deceptions in your trachea and pick foe. If you are banking on the other person picking friend, then pick foe so you win it
all. If you are banking on him picking foe, pick foe too so he doesn't win shit. You can just never win being a friend.
And I have not updated PeeingMexicans.com yet, because remember I do not ever update any sites. Except The Breeze.org every Sunday and Wednesday evening. But here are some great submissions from fans whose recognition is long overdue.
"Border Control"
"Godzilla"
"Telling a Joke"
Hmm.. don't really have a title...
"After Sex"
Gotta give a shoutout to Kzug because she came down to JMU and rocked the world. My first ever encounter with a webmaster of a cool site, and hopefully not my last. Come on down!
I turn 21 this Saturday. 21 kegs, 21 handles of liquor, 21 jello shots, 21 live bands, 21 coolers of jungle juice, 21 wet tee shirt contests, 21 hours of pure insanity. Be sure to stop by or at least send cash or money order. I'll write more l8r.
This weekend I must have ran over a total of ten miles trying out for the club soccer team here at JMU. Friday evening we
ran for approximately for 3.5-4.5 miles all around this mountain and valley town. Well "we" being the rest of the tryoutees
while I lingered behind having to take walking breaks and catnaps. The group of 100+ cheered as I made my entrance 10
minutes behind the pack and beating only the kid with cerebral palsy and one shoe. The rest of the night consisted of short
side keepaway games to focus on our ball control. "Our" meaning everybody else.
Saturday morning I limped and moaned as I walked to the Pimpo, and my calves yelped in agony as I pushed down on the
accelerator to drive to the pitch about a mile or so away. First thing we do is go on "nice little run" all the way up
massive hills through my apartment complex past my building where the smell of the fresh oil slick my car left twelve minutes
before and the sounds of my roommates snoring penetrating the aluminum siding hit me like a fat kid in tennis, overwhelming
me with fatigue and urges to run inside and pass out. I kept keepin' on and only had to walk half as many times as the
previous night. Again we played keepaway and did some 8 vs.8 scrimmaging. Well since I have not ran over a mile in at least
two years and haven't touched a soccer ball in months, I figured this would be my chance to shine. In all of my childhood up
to high school, I could score goals at relative ease as long as the ball was played up correctly from the midfielders. I can
beat anybody in a dead sprint, including your team's defenders and that cocky fifteen-year-old on the Nike commercial. WHAT
BITCH WHAT? I had a couple of nonperfect breakaways which resulted in two assists and a goal of my own, but all were
shadowed by my horrendous ball control and stupid decisions. And the fact that I fell to the ground whimpering and grabbing
my calf as it cramped up into a tight knot didn't help in the least.
Sunday afternoon was for everyone who made the first cut, and I was honored to be invited back because my two days of tryouts
certainly could not have impressed somebody who gets paid to pretend to be impressed. Of course to start things off, we do a
little jog throughout the campus in which I did not have to stop once AND I was in the middle of the pack. YES! Things are
going great. Time for keepaway. Crap. I have not played truly competitevely in over two years and here I am ballin' with
the best of them. Shooting drill time comes around and I told myself that THIS was my time to shine. I kept repeating it to
myself as I chased after my ball that I kicked over the goal, the fence, down a giant dropoff hill/cliff, and into a
caged-off electrical box.
Needless to say, I didn't make the final cut. Am I sad? Nah. Am I glad? Nope. I was just hoping that maybe.. just
maybe... that I could keep cruising in on the lucky streak that got me into the first cut and/or be the proud recipient of a
clerical error. I definitely was not prepared to be tryout because it consisted of long distance running and ball control --
two things I have not done since high school. I also STRONGLY believe that I don't get along with the turf because every
muscle below my penis tightened up and threatened to cramp numerous times. Oh and the blisters, can't forget them. The ones
that bled through my Band-Aid blister blocks and four layers of ACE bandage wrap. I'm glad I tried out and I'm not
disappointed in the outcome considering I was the most out of shape in my life running the furthest distance in my existence.
Congrats to everyone who made it. NO SERIOUSLY. Now only if there was a club for sprinting 55 meters once, maybe twice a
day and then calling it quits. Hey that's not a bad idea...
Here are pictures of my blister, me about to eat the dead skin, and me about to eat the bloody sock. (click to
enlarge.)
You thought I was done with my club soccer escapades? NOWAY. This goes all the way back to the Fall of 2001, when I was a
cocky little freshman who puffed on Marlboro Milds wearing my Senior T-shirt in my walks up the ISAT hill to my CS courses.
That Spring I had just come off a stellar soccer and track season with my high school, and I for sure knew that I could make
any soccer team. Especially a so-called "club" team. (By the way, the JMU club soccer team is beyond intense.. I'm talking
national champion contenders year after year.) I laced up my running shoes and headed out to the field where I learned we
would go on a "short run." It was a different path than this year's, but definitely hard nonetheless. Well probably easier
for me and four other guys. HANG ON, I'M GETTING THERE. You see, I found myself trailing at the end of the end of
the pack very early on. I'm glad I wasn't the only one. None of the five of us knew each other but we all had an
understanding of how out of shape and the pain that everyone was enduring. With the rest of the group out of sight over the
horizon, we flag down a girl coming out of the Stonegate apartment complex. None of us knew the girl driving the Toyota
Tercel, but she didn't mind as we crammed our sweaty bods onto her nylon seats and screaming at her to "GO! GO!" She drove us
up and down numerous hills, ducking as we passed other legit stragglers and mouthing the words "DON'T FUCKING TELL OR IT'S
YOUR NUTS" and giving them thumbs up when they smiled and shook their heads in what appeared to be amusement and disbelief.
This chick seriously drove five minutes before we even saw sign of the end of the main pack. She stopped the car, and we
jumped out ever so quickly that she didn't even get to appreciate our lackluster "Thank-yous." We jogged the 500 yards back
to the field, sweating and panting, the whole nine yards. The five of us share a bond that will never be broken. The bond
of not showing up for the remaining days of tryouts and laying in bed as failures. Nontired failures.
Let's take a look at some other sites for the hell of it. Whoooooaooaooaoa!
Do you like lesbians? Do you want to pick out who should be good lesbians? Go here.
While we're on the topic of naked girls, check this
out.
Okay sorry girls, this picture will be the last
one I post of hot chicks.
Don't listen to your Grandpa about his duck stories... he's senile.
If I wanted to adopt a dog, I'd want this one. God Bless America
Witty description goes here.
Rusty is a huge FAG.
Then I would blame this on my newly adopted doggy.
The Blackout of 2003 picture that you've probably seen 50 billion times over is found here.
Enough of those random bullshits, I want to bring to you some quality entertainment courtesy of Jiglet. I go to John's site all the fucking time, and this time I just had
to share with you these great links. I signed up in June for free subscriptions to Maxim and FHM. I thought I'd never see
them in my box, but I swear that I have received the September issues of both. So now I am going to pass on the good word to
you.
Do you want Blender
magazine? The rockin' music mag brought to you by the creators of Maxim. 2 YEARS FREE!
How about Maxim???
YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT. FREE!
And the bastard child of men's magazines, Stuff Magazine. Trust me, it sucks... but still pictures of girls. FREE! And no I get nothing from it,
I'm just letting you know it's legit and you're an idiot if you don't sign up.
However, if you want to help me out AND get FREE PORN IN YOUR EMAIL... THEN SIGN UP HERE! Thanks assface.
Last week it rained a few days, and I was quickly reminded on how much I hate umbrellas. In case you have never been here
before, and in case you want me to waste space on this update with an old update, I've copied it here for your viewing
pleasure.
Hi JACKASS. Sorry for the lack of updates. This week is really hectic. Not very fun. It's cold and rainy and miserable.
And things aren't going quite my way. So I will cry like the little bitch that I really am. HAHAHAHA. Hmmm... speaking of
the cold and rain, I must state again that UMBRELLAS ARE FOR LOSERS! Seriously, guys. Check it.
WHY UMBRELLAS SUCK
1.) What's The Point?- What good is an umbrella? I'm SERIOUS. Okay, get mad and say well "DUH THEY KEEP ME DRY!" I
don't give a shit about that. What's a little water? Aww, poor little baby can't get a little rain on their brand new
sweater. WAAAAAH. Grow some balls. Ditch the umbrella and join the revolution. You'll be happy you did. 2.) No Respect For Fellow Human Beings- All you jackasses whip out your badass umbrella and walk around campus like
your shit don't stink. And you don't give a fuck about people like me who don't have umbrellas? Hey, how about we cram 50
fuckers with umbrellas on one sidewalk walking in opposite directions. 50 fuckers who DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYONE ELSE. Do you
know how many times I've been jabbed in the eye and face by those convenient metal prongs of death? Too many times. And how
many times I've been caught in the middle of a bunch of umbrella bumblefucks and get soaked because all the rain off their
precious umbrella drenches me? Too many times. And how many times I've been late to class and I get caught behind the jackass
with the huge ass umbrella that takes up the entire sidewalk and I have no way of getting around him? Twice. And how many
times I've been soaked by fockers shaking their umbrellas off when they walk into every fricking building? Fifty-eight. 3.) Umbrellas Are For Losers-
That's right. You suck and your umbrella sucks.
Yeah, my eye after I GOT JABBED. And Steve's eye after he got JABBED. True story- Steve was sick of being JABBED so when this
chick jabbed him, he took the umbrella and SMASHED IT OVER HIS KNEE LIKE BO JACKSON.
Click pictures.
I had to add a quip about umbrellas in order to justify my actions of posting an old update to take up space. Here is a
scenario for you. There's this really bangin' tanned blonde slutwhore sorority chick wearing her tight white letter shirt,
and she is walking out of her class. She just realizes that is raining after the entire class discussion consisted of how
bad the storms were that were coming in. There's this acne-prone greasefuck who has been thinking about this girl every
night while choking the chicken and would DIE for a chance to
talk to her. He jumps at the opportunity to springhis Peanuts umbrella to prevent little miss peroxide from melting
in the rain. NOW HERE'S THE DILLEMA! Who should hold the umbrella as the two venture outside in the world of
nondryness. Got an answer? If you said the guy because it's his umbrella or because he is the one that wants to protect this
slut or because guys are supposed to do stuff for girls... then raise your hand. Now put the fingers in your Yaffa Blocks
and get your roommate to shake the block as fast as it takes to count yogurt cups before entering the Express checkout.
BECAUSE YOU ARE WRONG! Stupid shitheads. It's not about the male doing the female a favor, it's about the
TALLER person holding the umbrella for the SHORTER person. You just assume the guy is taller than the girl?
FUCKING STEREOTYPES. Sick of it all. That, my friend, is proper umbrella etiquette.
Well almost done... I just have to let you in on a little secret. I had experienced the worst nightmare in my entire life
the other night. Even more intense than falling into an neverending abyss or being chased by a coked up Superman. Brace
yourselves. I was dreaming that I was enjoying my slumber only to be awoken by a sound of a door creaking. A very eerie
creaking. My eyes quicklyd up and my pupils adjusted to the glow of my perfumed nightlight. SLAM!CREAK! I was sooo scared. All thisng and slamming of doors was scaring me so much that I felt a piece of poop
make it's way onto my nighty. Then however I realized that I left my computer speakers on and it had been buddies of mine
signing on and off of AOL Instant Messenger. BUT I'M NOT DONE! I went to go to turn off my speakers when I noticed my
buddy online count increased by one, and I did not see any new friends on for 1 minute. THEN I REALIZED IT. There was
somebody on my buddy list THAT I DIDN'T PUT ON IT! I even checked to see if this mystery screen name was in my buddy
list setup, and IT WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. Here I was, sitting alone, sweating bullets and staring at the window on
the right side of my screen. HOW COULD THIS BE?!? There was somebody on my buddylist that was not even added on it!!!
Holy fricking crap! I was then awoken the garbage truck outside to realize that it was all a horrible illusion of terror.
Hope nobody goes through that same experience... If you happen to do so, let me know. I am here to console you... OR AM
I. MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHA.
Me sleeping and enjoying my dreams... BEFORE the nightmare!
I bring to you 2 special updates by 2 special people. First is from my fellow JMUer Ryan Gray, and second is an update by your favorite Sam of Green Eggs and Sam stationed in Arizona. That's right fuckers, we came to play! I will write an update tomorrow because I haven't felt like writing in awhile. Sorry I am just worthless.
Well, well, well. After a long break from the world of Internet rants I have returned. For those of you who were not graced with my old web page of mindless boring dribble, I am Ryan Gray, Smitty's twin, beer pong partner, and confidant. Smitty and I have been talking lately about adding a section to the already award-winning SMITHAPPEN.COM where I, Ryan, rant about bullshit just as Smitty, Danwho, and James do for your reading pleasure. Please, please, calm down, contain the splooging.
Thus this shall be the inaugural passage of "gray matter." (clever eh? I thought of that one myself).
Ok so just to give you some background, parking services bites. I was a First Year Orientation Guide for the freshmen this year along with my fellow mates Angel, James, Brad, and a whole host of other JMU celebrities who you may know, where we help and guide those hot little freshmen girls along the straight and narrow path to success here and JMU. Well one day during orientation week I received a ticket for parking in an area where I shouldn't have. So I go to parking services and proceed, in a nice calm and orderly manner to ask the girl if there was some way we could take care of the ticket then and have it erased or something of that nature. Well I was met with hostility and robotic answers as if I was Haley Joel Osment in A.I. and repeatedly told me in a monotone Ben Stein voice "appeal forms are there sir, appeal forms are there sir" over and over again while she pointed with her pupils almost to the tops of her lids to a desk behind me. I tried to look her in the eye but she would have none of it, staring into her computer monitor in order to avoid it. So I finally got fed up and said "Fuck it" outloud and stormed out of the office like a bat outta hell! YEEEEEEHAWW!
As I left the office I saw a jerk circle of parking nazi's sitting down having a good chuckle probably at all the poor saps they ticketed today b/c their meter expired a minute too soon or their dad left the car on the grass in the village a second too long. We all have had issues with this I'm sure, but by this time I was fed up. I found a parking person I knew and with as calmly of a voice possible asked her if she knew who gave me the ticket. She said no, naturally, as sweet as possible, b/c she could see how pissed I was, and I again stormed off, this time yelling out "FUCKING PARKING NAZI'S!"
As I left I saw another one of those punks writing down my license plate number and who eventually told my orientation supervisor, who is a awesome nice guy and explained to me the situation and asked me to apologize for his sake. I of course agreed and wrote the letter in a timely manner to the supervisor of the parking services office. Now having thought this was resolved I discover today that they have officially filed a judicial case against me for "disorderly conduct" and I have a hearing next Wednesday. So if you would like to support me and hate the parking services people as much as I do please tell me what you think. Thank you.
Now on to the important info: WE PLAY VIRGINIA TECH THIS WEEKEND HOLLLLAAAAA!!!! All you fucking hokies down there better watch out b/c them dukes is comin to eat that gobbler right off your head. Now I know we'll lose but mind you our team is actually good this year. Our defense is tight, our special teams are fast, and despite our offensive holes, we still managed to score 48 points last game. WHAT NOW BEYOTCH!? We'll most likely just get a keg and listen to the radio while watching the ohio game on tv b/c tickets are so outrageous and neither smitty nor I really have the money to afford them. So come on over and join us
And finally I'd like to discuss mini skirts. Mini skirts are fabric makers gift to men everywhere. I don't think I'd enjoy the start of school half as much if there weren't mini skirts to be worn by all the amazingly gorgeous women who attend this fine establishment. God bless you all. I want you all to know how much it means to me and my colleagues here at smithappens, cannedjam, and Danwho.net that you wear this garments made for the gods. I think you girls should truly know how much it brightens my day to see that area above your kneecap right below your thigh. It has to be the most perfect part of the female leg and damnit I just am running out of adjectives to describe it. Keep on rockin mini skirts. Now here's some linkage:
StarTrakMusic Ebaum's World Always 10 Feet Tall
Sup ladies. Today I woke up at 4 AM. Pity me! We form up for PT right? I fall in with B group cuz I'm coughing up green shit and a drill sergeant is like "BENFER WTF YOU DOING IN B GROUP GET IN A!"So I'm like "But drill sergeant I feel like.. "Does it look like I care? You're not slacking off get in A." I Then proceeded to run farther than EVER before.(Hacking up shit with every other step) Something around 6 miles or so, yea to you studs it might be nothing but hey, it hurt. Anyway so we ran so far we got back LATE and cut into my breakfast so I didn't get to eat those asses. So now I'm in a bad mood. Then I played counter-strike and kicked my fellow soldiers asses cuz I am king which cheered me up eventually. So then, we form up(forming up is getting in formation for accountability ,making sure no one is AWOL etc.) and the DS(Drill Sergeant) inspects us. He looks at my boots and I'm thinking "§F%$^ I FORGOT TO SHINE MY F*ING BOOTS" so he tells me I have to see this other private to learn how to shine boots! K. I know how to shine friggin boots..my boots look like glass when I shine them!So anyway Then I go to school and learn about this really really REALLY cool stuff! Wanna know what? TOO BAD. It's SECRET! I can't tell you hahahahahaha. Yea and nothing eventful happened there..or so you think. And that concludes my day. Now I'm sitting here listing to my music and writing this. Cuz smitty said he didn't feel like updating and well..I'm bored. So there you go. I love you all and um sorry bout the songs they suck,maybe I'll write another one just so you people can make fun of me in your thoughts for a while...chicks if you want me like I want you IM me :-P c yaaaaaaa .
