Saturday, 30 August 2008

• The Good Times Are Killing Me

  I've been working on my awesome novel.  I have like - a page done.  Technically, the prologue.  I would post it on here but I'm too embarrassed. 
  
  Okay.  You can have one sentence of it. "I read my obituary over raisin bran."
  
  I'm in Austin saving my strength to destroy the competition in the cool 10K tomorrow.  I haven't run since Wednesday so I'm on the verge of frenzy.  I got a cool Nike Dry Fit shirt complete with individualised number.  That makes the entry fee worth it.
  
  I've cemented myself to the couch and have been watching college football all day.  Atleast I know what I'll be doing the next 16 weekends or so. 
  
  Here are some pictures of me pilfered from facebook.  The only cost was massive hangover. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I don't know anything about politics and to be honest, I don't really care.  But McCain's new running mate is freaking hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Who cares about her affiliation or policies?  Everyone knows that looks are more important than any other quality.  How do you think I'm so successful?  It isn't my brains.
  
  Obama should have done better than this old dude from Scranton. 
  
  
  
  He's no Sarah Palin.  But Scranton is cool.  I want to visit there one day so I can see where The Office is based.
  
  Fact: My Dwight Schrute bobblehead is in and will be on my desk come Tuesday.  Excellent.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hate checking the mail.  I hate it more than anything in the world actually.  Literally 90% of my parcels are junkmail.  I'm saving it all so I can shove it down the mailman's throat. 
  
  I don't want a coupon to Bed Bath & Beyond.  I don't shop at Macy's.  And I don't need coupons for groceries.  Do you really expect me to sit and cut out pieces of paper to save 5 cents on 20 loaves of garlic bread?  Yeah, and then I'll put on my pants made out of paper bags and my belt made from a piece of rope, and grab my pizza box briefcase and head to work. 
  
  It will be cool when McCain meets the Grim Reaper and Sarah can be president.*

  
   
  *Note:
  Dear FBI, Not to be percieved as a threat of harm, but mearly an observation that people that are super old are more prone to death than the rest of us.

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