Friday, November 24, 2006

I'm a no lifer. I eat chocolate. I breathe chocolate. Comrendiste?
I'm a no lifer. I eat chocolate. I drink chocolate. Comprendiste?
Okay, maybe I'm a little too blunt about my otherwordly gluttony problems. Probably figure I'm the fat guy who's trying to whore his way to the local candy bar joint. Trust me on this: I'm an athlete, so there's no way in the seven levels of hell that I'd overeat. Wheat and yes, friends, I just told a white lie, one big enough to drive a 747 through.

Am I a chatty person? My college professor told me I have the biggest (Can I say largest? That'd make my prof. look stupid. I want that, what can I say I'm all but speechless.) mouth he's ever seen. Following, might I add while clearing a particularly large whole in my throat. Thank the little Christmas baubbles that I was eating a Lifesaver, and if I had swallowed it on accident, they EMS people wouldn't cut a huge chunk of flesh out of my throat in order to revive me.

Does anyone want to know how social I am? Its really bad, trust me. One time I was in China. I won't tell you where, again, again, childhood fears never leave I'm sorry for my rudeness. Whew. Deep breath. Anyway, people like to dump giant heaps of bullshit in my face for things like this. So I talked to this guy randomly because I felt like it. I commented on something he was drinking, and my Chinese, being as poor as it is, allowed me to miscommunicate my thoughts into forcing him to believe I wanted that thing for myself. Punch me. Bar me. Clap me in irons.

And the Olympic people say: 10/10 for the dumbass!

Thats all for now. I really don't want to go into painful details about that certain trip to China. I hate China. Why does American otaku glamourize it so much? If you've been there, you know its not that cool. (Except the Forbidden City and the soon to be Olympics Stadium. Yeah. It kicks major ass.)

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