||[Dec. 7th, 2006|08:59 pm]
|||||Experience Void- The Loaded Poets||]|
Write a journal entry with six random facts about yourself.
Then, pick six of your friends list and tag them (How about no?) - no tag backs. These rules should be included in your entry.
1. I don't want to learn to drive, because I'll crash and kill myself.
2. I like bouncy balls. Everybody should send me some because I lose them a lot. They roll farther then I can reach without exerting myself, and when I finally get off my fat ass they've disappeared, probably into the garage with my cats, and the garage smells funny and you couldn't pay me to go in it except to run to dad's freezer for soda.
3. Marla started a job doing prepaid funeral plans for a mortuary where sometimes great fat men, but usually fat women, would come out of the mortuary showroom carrying a crematory urn the size of an egg cup, and typing Fight Club hurts my fingers.
4. I'm listening to the Dire Straits now.
5. I'm very scared that it's conceivable (conceive-able, ha ha, it's a pun) that I may experiment with some sort of, how does one put it, “illegal intoxicants” at some point, and as a result may have kids, because kids in any situation are bad. I learn lessons I base my life around from '90s sitcoms!
6. “I hate the plastic wrapping crap that CDs are wrapped in. It's bloody impossible to get off. I hate those stupid stickers too.”-Sam. Oh god I hate those motherfuckers too, it takes me ages to get them off and I end up just gnawing on the case. And the goddamn stickers get stuck to the case and screw it up. The packaging is a huge reason behind my decision to just download albums now. Hey, I'm done. Wait, no I'm not, I'm addicted to playing Doom, and Slingo, and that one goddamn Panic! At The Disco song about construction of an omniscient entity before conversation, and bouncy balls, I want to dump pa crate of bouncy balls down the steps at school, okay the end.