Being sans internet and TV for a week has enlightened me in ways religion never could.
You haven't lived til you've lived with Greg. We have fun martian style all the time and it's terrific. We'll have internet soon though so we won't be so caveman.
And in case you were wondering, Greg is now a true brown fan of Ween. I even caught the poor bastard transfering all my Ween songs to his computer the other day. No one can resist the pure unbridled catchiness that is "Ocean Man".
We live in a place called Baytown, but the Bible refers to it as "Hell". Luckily, I have my trusted gun, not yet named, to protect me.
Goal of the Day: Come up with a Name for my Gun
The local residents are of a darker variety, and they act not unlike the zombies in 28 Days Later. Upon seeing you having anything worth pawning, they chase you and you are forced to bash them in the head.
Our neighbor is this dryed up looking blonde hippie and her not entirely unboneable daughter. I think they smoke copious amounts of ganja. We have yet to become their friends, but since she is "claustophobic", they leave their door open all the time, so maybe a loving relationship can form.
Anyway, something tells me I'm into something good.
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