For the record, I'm feeling good. Really good. Like an upward slope of happiness. Like Tinman after being hit with an oil can. Which is a positive.
At first I was slightly concerned that I was pregnant. What, with the constant craving for tomato soup with added mushrooms. Then I realized that this is just the staple meal for me for a few months. I go on these sort of kicks. In my past it's been Subway sandwiches, tuna, fiber one; why not mix in a few month long tomato soup bender.
I love
Twitter so much that I really resent people's facebook status messages. I'm just like, "You should be tweeting this!" My motto: A place for everything, and everything in its place. Twitter is for statuses. Facebook is a place where you can post cool pictures and
stalk investigate people. And Xanga is a place where you can write your real-time memoirs. Because how the hell am I going to remember to talk about my thoughts on tattoos when I'm on my deathbed?
I was reminded about this when seeing some guy at the gym covered with tattoos that couldn't have cost more than $5 per square foot. Here's the thing about tattoos: I don't understand the people who get these cheap ass tattoos. Tattoos are like toilet paper, you might as well go for the best. An anchor etched in green pen ink seemingly with a sharpened shish-kabob skewer? No thanks. A tattoo is like an engagement ring, it should cost at least 2 months' salary. And even though people that have tattoos usually only rake in like $500 bucks every 2 months, $500 bucks can get a pretty cool tattoo.
Like, if I'm ever going to get a tattoo, be sure it will be incredible. Like diamond encrusted. In fact, I want a tattoo of the word "TATTOO" in 24 carat gold ink. The only purpose of which is to show that I have a tattoo. Due to the logistics of it, it's a really hard thing to google image search for, but if you can find a picture of someone with a tattoo of the word "tattoo", you get an autographed picture of me. Or I will sponsor your tattoo of a picture of me. Then sign that.
FYI, in my google image search journey, I found this:
My 401K is like the modern day equivalent of my old change jar. It just keeps growing and I don't really notice and then one day when/if I'm 65 I'll just be like "Whoa, check this out." Kinda like back in the day when I would trade my 5 lbs of coins for something like $60 dollars and it would make my week.
You know, maybe it would be better for me to just save my money in coin form instead of in a 401K account. Since being a kid, it's like I've had this weird fantasy of swimming in a pile of gold coins implanted in my head. I can't quite place it...
After beating inFAMOUS, I have this desire to buy and play another videogame. Yes, I'm 24. But maybe I'm in the generation where it's okay to play videogames well into adulthood. I mean, I grew at basically the same pace as the videogame industry. It was a natural progression. I became old enough to play, and the NES was the best system available. I got older, games and systems got better. F it. I do what I want.
For those keeping score at home, I'm in
Year 3 of consistently doing my Perfect Abs DVD. Since I often do it multiple times a day, I've probably done it over 1000 times now. Or atleast 600 to be conservative. For you non Math majors, that's 4800 minutes, or 80 hours, or over 3 days of abbing it up.
So far, so good, I guess.
Comments (2)
In more important commenting themes--do your abs look like the chick's on the cover of perfect abs? Sexy.