2 weeks

Tomorrow will be 2 weeks of not smoking for moi.  Not sure why I quit, just read this book and decided it’d be worth a shot.  The book is Allen Carr’s “Easy Way to Stop Smoking”, which has to be the most retarded title ever for a pretty useful bunch of pages.  I like that he’s not a doctor.  Can’t deal with doctors.  They don’t think like normal people.  Just a dude who used to rock 5 packs a day then quit cold turkey without any withdrawl.  My experience using his method was similar, but with only a paltry 2 packs per day habit.  How the fuck do you smoke 5 packs a day?

Guess I’ll go into observations regarding the difference between smoking and not smoking here.

#1-  A lotta people smoke here.

#2-  I’m 97% less irritable/angry as a non-smoker.  Keep getting into situations where I know I should be angry, but just can’t be bothered.  It’s bizarre.

#3-  All of you are fucking idiots.  Every single fucking one of you.  There’s no exceptions.  Whenever I tell someone that I stopped smoking, doesn’t matter if they’re young, old, male, adjumma, whatever… the response is always, “Why?”  Maybe I spoke too soon on not being irritable cause that shit makes me wanna spontaneously start face-fucking people.

#4-  As far as Koreans are concerned; gaining weight = greater evil than smoking.  My coworkers made this clear while gorging on pig fat.

#5-  Nobody really gives a shit if you stopped smoking.  It’s either “you shouldn’t have smoked in the first place” or “why you getting all high and mighty on me?”

#6-  I don’t care if people smoke around me.  Chain smokers bother me less than the occasional smoker.  Not sure why.  Just seem like posers.  If it’s worth doing then you should be doing it constantly.  Have some conviction. you pussies.

#7-  My students bitched, bitched, bitched about my smoking.  I stopped.  Now they’ve forgot about it.  Fickle pickle fuckers.  If I want to start again, I’m lighting up in class.

#8-  One of the big bonuses of stopping is supposed to be getting your sense of smell/taste back.  This is not a good thing here.

#9-  My newest game consists of watching TV.  Pretty simple start there.  Whenever I see an actor/actress smoking I give myself about 3 seconds to decide if they’re legit or a poser.  No real way to verify this, but it’s fun to criticize people on the boob tube for holding a fag like a… non smoker.

#10-  Free time.  This is a double edge sword.  If you figure it takes between 5 minutes to burn one down and you’re doing that 20-40 times/day, that’s somewhere around 100 to 200 minutes/day.  I’ve been filling the gap with naps.  Although my coworkers hate on my napping, which I’ll get into another time.  Ruthless bastards.

That’s about it for the list.  10 is a nice round number, ask anybody.

Evaluation Champion

 Yesterday, I was evaluated by my students.  I’m a “great” teacher.  Should read “liquid lightning bolt of ninja fist awesome” teacher.  This wasn’t an option.  My milkshake  yesterday; I beat every single kid at the school in arm wrestling.  That’s about 400 kids.  Teachers wouldn’t be baited by my taunting.  Gave the sports teacher a ton of shit.  Perfect example of why soccer is useless.  Drunk with approval ratings, I did a little stupid dance each time I tore a students limb out of their shoulder socket.  Kids started copying the dance.  Was driving out of the parking lot and NoNo starts screaming, “TEACHER! TEACHER!”  As soon as I look over, he turns to his buddy and delivers a vicious bitchslap that knocks the kid on his ass.  Then he does the little stupid dance. 

Caught “I Was Bitten” on the Discovery Self Promoting Commerical Channel.  Was actually pretty cool.  Guy got his face crunched by a Grizzly in Alaska.  Only a Californian would be fucking stupid enough to roll into the Alaskan wilderness with nothing but granola to defend himself.  Discovery must have bugged my apartment, they seem to be toning down all the goddamn ‘we’re so great’ spots.  Yelling at the TV is productive.

Friday is my birthday.  I’ll be 27.  This sucks ass.  I liked being 25.  You can lie to yourself when you’re 25.  Definitely closer to 20 than to 30.  26 wasn’t bad either.  Only 1 year off 25 so that’s closer to 20.  But it’s just not mathematically fucking possible to round down 7 and not up 3.  Soon I will be 30.  Life will be over.  Time to start playing golf, go to AA, have 2.2 kids, sell motorcycle, get airbags, snore constantly, get life insurance, shop at IKEA, can’t buy that awesome 14 inch bandsaw, know what section of the store Preperation H is in, lament years of not flossing, prune cravings, colon polyps… junior’s college fun eats wallet.  Fun done, dreams over.  Can still do crossword though, that’s a plus.

Im Back Bitches

I’ve been on hiatus.  Just didn’t have any motivation to slog this crap out. 

Last Friday, I officially packed it in.  Spent all my classes making paper cranes with the kids.  There’s look pretty good, mine look like snot.  Been practicing though. 

Went to Gyeongju this weekend with the woman and the bike.  I’ve seen about 1,400 blogs on hiking/temples/this/that/the other fucking thing… horseshit!  Rather look at your latest dental x-rays.  So I will proceed to bitch about everything.  After all, I’m American.  It’s what we do.  We bitch, talk too loud and could careless about Canadian geography.  Newfoundland’s west coast, right? 

Driving to Gyeongju was about as pleasant as playing tonsil hockey with a cattle prod.  What the fuck.  I know that orderly planning isn’t exactly Korean’s strong point, but the routes there are abysmal.  Maybe the freeway planner, way back when, was just too hungover to do any work so he gave it to his 3 year old son who went ape-shit on it with a 64 pack of crayolas.  Maybe the planner wasn’t feeling so well after eating too much spaghetti, tossed his cookies on the plan, and passed this off as a topographical map to his boss.  See boss, the tomato chunks are mountains and the noodles are the roads. 

Jackasses.

Could argue that a map would have helped, but I had a map of Gyeongju that was extremely precise if you looked at it through a kaleidoscope. 

Tastes Like Finger Ale. Made a batch of Octoberfest Ale on Friday night which turned out really well.  Smelled like heaven.  Unfortunately, the shit Korean equipment I was using decided not to function properly and began leaking.  Handled it like any red blooded male should.  Went into the emergency stairwell, closed the door and belted out a few “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”s, then calmly re-approached the problem.  Ended up “sanitizing” my left arm and sticking it into the beer to get at the fucked valve to fix it.  This is a big no-no, any sort of bacteria isn’t welcome in homebrew flavor country, but it worked and I haven’t noticed any fingernail taste yet.

Back to Gyeongju.  Went to Gyeongju World, which is an amusement park.  Had one good ride, but it was fun to dork around.  Reminded me of Oaks Park in Portland, but shinier with less carnies.  They freak me out.  Tried to follow excellent tourist map back to hostel, couldn’t find a stairwell to yell in.  Just muttered a lot in helmet.

Finally got back.  Informed the chesty one that I must imbibe on chicken and beer.  She suggested soju, she’s a keeper.  Meandered into the worst chicken/beer/soju restaurant on the peninsula.  Sat for 20 minutes with no service, watching a SURLY (and I mean this old bag was gnarly, even for an adjumma) lady fry shit then drop it on the floor then put it in take out boxes.  Finally, went to fridge to grab some booze, got accosted by bitchjumma who couldn’t understand “gimme some fucking soju” in Korean.  Luckily, there were some drunk, rowdy adjossis who reveled in giving her shit.  They were helpful.  Proceed to get hammered, considered dashing, but decided against it.  She wouldn’t have noticed.  Next time.

Went to a potluck on Sunday night.  Not my shindig, so I had to keep my trap shut.  Really wanted to lay into people for coming to a potluck, but not cooking anything.  I mean how fucking dense are you?  Awesome, I actually cooked and you brought Hite.  Fucking sweet.  How about a door in the face?  Next time, we’ll just cook, the few of us that did, and you fuckers can go get pig fat and Cass.  Sometimes I wish I was Buzzsaw, and life was just one big episode of The Running Man (sans the part where Arnold cuts my junk in half with my own chainsaw).

In conclusion, fuck Monday. I’m gonna go get drunk.

Lie Day

Today is not April Fools’ here in Korea.  It’s Lie Day.  When I walked into faculty room this morning I thought it was Everyone Beat Your Student’s Ass Day.  Every single teacher, minus principal, was going ape shit on one kid or another.  They even switched kids.  Big swingers orgy of physical and verbal abuse.  All that was missing was some BSDM gear and a video camera.  Damn good thing they don’t have guns here or it would Columbine Day twice a week.

Sophomores in first class had prank all set up.  Al-Qaeda, my best story-telling student, offers some candy.  Should have looked, but was talking to kids while opening wrapper.  Popped it in mouth and bite down.  Class erupts in hysteria.  Strange texture and bad taste.  Yup, that’s an eraser.  They were nice enough to cover it in marker.  Good one Al-Qaeda. 

Said fuck the textbook, lets just have Al-Qaeda tell us a story.  His version of The Odyssey; “Teacher at Lotte Giants game.  Drunk!  Climb wall and run.  Very fast.  Hit other team pitcher in face.  Very famous in Busan.  Everyone cheers and drink soju.  Run out and throw bomb!  Boom!  Everyone die.  Then go with me.  We team now.  Go to teacher’s house.  Go to teacher’s house 2 in Japan.  Throw bomb.  Go to Dokdo.  3rd house.  Go to teacher college.  Boom!  Russia.  Boom!  Steal atom bomb from Russia.  Go to moon.  See Mars people.  They say, “Gooweegooo”, but we don’t understand so kill mars people.  Then back to moon.  Teacher’s 4th house.  Meet Armstrong.  We new team.  Start society.  Drink soju.”  Wish I had a picture of the diagram that went along with this.  Nice mural of destruction.

Like everyone at a high school, I decide to take it out on the freshman.  Next class, entered with stack of paper and serious look.  Wrote on board that today was a pop quiz that would determine 50% of their English grade for the year.  Lots of whining, but they submit without too much fuss.  Topic was the historical relationship between Korea and America.  End test abruptly after 40 minutes.  There’s about 5 minutes left in class.  Write “Happy 만 우 절” on board after collecting papers.  They were PISSED.  Settled down eventually, but got a lot of “TEACHA! PUCK YOU!  YOU WHITE DEBIL!”  Stupid freshmen. 

After lunch, one of the other teachers left a rice cake on the window sill.  Almost everyone was in the room and said window was open.  A glorious magpie, embracing the spirit of April 1st, decided to steal the rice cake.  Bird landing in sill causes mass panic.  Looked like someone threw a case of Olde English in a chimpanzee cage.  I saw the bird land and didn’t see the imminent danger.  They were so spooked that they broke the sliding door during the stampede.  Glass went everywhere and door smashed down stairs.  Was left cackling in chair and clapping for magpie.

Happy Lie Day to you, victorious magpie.  You are my ally.  Enjoy your prize.

Navel Lint

Can’t remember anything from this weekend.  Pretty standard stuff.  Woman painted one set of toes pink.  Looks a bit fruity.

Had discussion with friend about the mysterious phenomenon known as belly button lint.  Navel lint, if you’re feeling wordy.

10 grueling minutes of research later, I have found its scientific explanation.  Turns out some guy in Australia did a bunch of research into it.  He is an Ig Nobel Prize winner.

Dr. Karl Kruszelnicki is a fucking cool guy.  Stolen from Wiki;

He holds degrees in Mathematics, Biomedical Engineering, Medicine and Surgery, and he has studied Astrophysics, Computer Science and Philosophy.  He has worked as a physicist, labourer, roadie for bands, car mechanic, film-maker, hospital scientific officer, biomedical engineer, TV weatherman, taxi driver, and medical doctor.

Ridiculous! 

The basic conclusions from his study were that belly button lint is made up of clothing fibers, dead skin and body hairs.  Most of the fibers move up from the underwear, which was contrary to his expectations.  Caused by “frictional drag of body hair” on underwear.  Women don’t get it as much as men.  Not even close.

Also said that lint is usually blue-gray hue.  Not sure if I completely agree with findings.  I used to have a red t-shirt that would produce a rocking little lint ball everytime. 

Usually, I give my belly button lint away as a present to lady friends.  It’s classy.  It says, “I care enough to make this for you with my body hair’s frictional drag on my underwear.  If you save enough of it, you can make a hat.” 

Don’t hold a candle to this motherfucker.  Graham Barker, Guinness World Record Holder for Navel Fluff Collection….

 

You sick bastard.  Interesting though.  Must have rocked green shirts till 1994 when he got into a red phase then returned to normalcy in 2001.  Considering how much money I would need to eat it all.  Would like to say large sum, but in college I drank 12 oz. of tabasco for $37.  Not worth it.  Threw up into toilet, and water splashed in eyes.  Was blinded and fell down cafeteria stairs in front of half the school.  Good times.

Eureka!  Mr. Barker claims that the color change was due to changing towel colors!  

Feel like I’m on a first name basis with these guys now.  My buddy Graham keeps a beard collection as well.  Here’s his sites; 

http://www.feargod.net/fluff.html    and  www.feargod.net/beard.php

Mystery solved.

On a different subject, if you ever get ahold of nose hair clippers and decide to trim up your nostrils, don’t mow down the whole forest.  They must serve some purpose even if they make an annoying whistling noise from time to time.  My nose has been uber fucked.

Drunk Black Mood

I get black moods from time to time.  Not a believer in depression.  What is.  Just is.

Ditched work around 1 pm.  Inattentive on drive home.  It’s 3:41 pm.  On 7th beer.

Listening to Modest Mouse “The Lonesome Crowded West”.  Used to listen to them practice in the park on Woodstock while playing ball.  Nice guys.

Went for a walk.  Feel nothing for this place.  Miss riff raff, individuality and bike lanes.  Don’t miss police state.  Was having interesting internal argument about life that escapes me now.  Brain talks to itself.

Went to bank.  Withdrawal for bills.  Better idea.  Went to E-Mart.  Swerving quite a bit on bike.  Stared at whiskey selection for 10 minutes.  Black Label.  Ballentine’s bottle seem insincere.  Gaudy.  Went back to cell.  Resumed getting trounced.

Possibly the news.  Bleak.  Just ran out of smokes.  Bleaker.

3:54.  Going to need more whiskey.  Scribble down on To Do List.  Cross out other 15 items.

News from home?  Friends and family getting or in process of lay offs.  Grim.

Read blogs.  Comments on pictures.  Politics.  Daily occurrences.  Lacking human touch.  Everyone is clever.

Chopped an onion.  No reason.  Just like the sound.  Simmered some olive oil.  Like the smell.  Declined adding onions to oil.

Busy.  Staring at feet.  Have toe fungus under nail of big toes.  Step dad used to tell me to pee on my feet in the shower to prevent athlete’s foot.  Effective.

“Outta gas, outta road, outta car.  Don’t know how I’m gonna go.  And I had a drink the other day.  My feelings were like kittens, I was giving them way.  Had a drink the other day.  I had a lot to say and I said.  You will come down soon too… In this life that we call home, the years go fast and the days go so slow.  The days go slow.”  -MM

There’s a fake mustache on the floor.  Little smile.  Great invention.

Examine hands.  Scars are my pride and joy.  Reigning champ is 3 tracks of scar tissue from Skilsaw accident awhile back.  Remember friend’s face turning white when it happened.  Put my hand above my head instantly.  Didn’t look.  Felt blood streaming off elbow.  Fumbled through pockets for a cigarette and fire.  35 stitches in two fingers.  No ligament damage.  Invincible.  Ha.  Actually, ankle gash is burlier.

Debating plunking down a buck for notepad.  Journal proviously more appropriate for this.  Thank you, Jason.  I love the new word.  Any suggestions for new music?

“All opposites don’t push away.  It’s the same on the weekends as the rest of the days.  I know I should go, but I’ll probably stay.  And that’s all you can do about something.  I’m trying, I’m trying to drink away the part of the day that I cannot sleep away.” -MM

Finished fifth.  Nice day.  Force my students to deal with sunlight in class.  They hate it.  Always tired.  Vampire coven.

“Well I’ll go to college and I’ll learn some big words.  And I’ll talk real loud.  Goddamn right I’ll be heard.  You’ll remember the guy who said all those big words, he musta learned in college.  And it took a long time till I came clean with myself.  I run clean out of love with my lover.  I still love her.  Love her more when she used to be sober.  Now it’s kinda.” -MM

Should go out.  Dive bars here are lacking.  Basement has the idea, but I can’t finish a pint without Matt bugging me about something.  Social dude.

Look out window.  Buildings.  Windows.  Sprawl on laminate floor.  Try to imagine entire structure.  Steel, slabs with rebar guts, beams here and there, elevator shafts, heating coils, laminated OSB, and poor caulk jobs holding it together.  Can’t feel the foundation.  Should check.

Always tired.  Saw Pest Control guy in elevator.  Wondered how good he was at math.  How much his parents spent on hagwon English.  Country could benefit from vocational schools.

Ran some barley through grain mill.  Methodical.  Felt good.  Going to get back to it.  Ate part of onion.  It’s 5:34.

Accidental DIY Vasectomy

Sat through 4 hours of World Baseball Classic.  Listened to kids scream every time anything happened and laugh at funny exertion faces.  Good thing there’s a 48 inch flat screen in every room.  Never seen them used before today.  Not a big baseball on TV fan, would rather watch construction guys across the street build new expressway.  They just finished rebar and are pouring foundation sections today.  I keep close tabs on them.  Managed to not sit on my balls during whole baseball game.

Walking through parking lot to head home.  See Stewardess who has forgotten about yelling ABOVE LEVEL and wants a ride to the bus stop.  It’s not far and I pass it anyways.  Hop on bike.  Forget that I went commando today.  Half way sitting on balls.  Start to stand up to try and hip shake balls to a more comfortable position without reaching down pants.  Unfortunately, Stewardess is really pumped and hops on bike as I’m beginning my shimmy.  Not enough shimmy.

Dilemma.  Sit back down on balls.  Not all the way, but enough to be very unpleasant.  Decide it’s not a good idea to put hand down pants in school parking lot with 17 year old girl on back of bike.  Fuck it.  I’ll just bear it for a few minutes.

Road through rice paddies is curvy.  Very bumpy.  Can’t decide whether it’s worse to go slow to avoid bouncing on bumps or just shorten the whole experience by gunning it.  Go for later.

Worst idea since Crystal Pepsi.  First big bump out of school driveway brings back memories.  Anna W. had a crush on me in 3rd grade.  Hadn’t quite figured out the whole cooking and oral angle yet.  Her love went unrequited.  Earned me a swift kick in the nuts next to the tetherball pole during recess.  Later that year our class took a field trip to her family’s lama farm.  A lama spit on my neck.  It went down my shirt.  Very warm.

Double impact.  Still moving.  Insane urge to take one hand off bars and rearrange my fruit basket.  Overpowered by thought of potentially crashing and being found with one hand down pants and bloodied student in tow.  Proviously going to get fired for that one.  Wishing I was Al Bundy, just home from selling shoes, with my belt undone and hand south of the border.

Get to little tunnel after curvy road.  Swerve to avoid Indy car/farm truck when entering tunnel while slamming on brakes.  This launches Stewardess into my back.  Applies approximately 85 more pounds of soul crushing pressure downstairs.

Oh, the humanity.

Now next to driver side of farm truck.  Adjossi swearing at me for carelessness, or asking me if I saw WBC.  Can’t decifer.  Weeping inside a little.  Tell Farmer Earnhardt to move tuck.  Makes him angry.  Smacks me with his door.  All weight shifted to starboard side.  Can almost hear left grape’s relief and the right one’s screams.  Closes door.  Momentarily distracted.  He has a rather bulbous herpie on his lip.  Gross.  Stewardess jabbers something, he drives off.

Manage to drop Stewardess off.  She had a great time.  Very happy kid.  Take first side alley I can.  Park bike and sit next to garbage pile.  Try to comfort self by cupping testicles.  Adjumma turns corner and spots me hanging out with garbage pile, while coddling junk.  Wasn’t even fazed.  Passes by.  Nothing to see here.

Drove home.

Doing the Al Bundy now.  Bag of frozen peas very useful.  On the sunny side, children with no longer be a concern.

Teacher is Above Level

Pretty standard Monday morning.  Didn’t crash bike, wasn’t late, and relatively sober.  Nice weather.  Had a good weekend.  Clobbered liver on Friday, shot some people on Saturday, slept a lot, made some pulled pork sandwiches on Sunday, then watched Eastbound and Down.

Bag Lady shuffled right by me.  Someone cleaned and waxed the crappy hardwood floors.  School is giant, dry skating rink.  Doing sweet power slides to first class.  Stewardess, the greatest/perkiest student ever, pops out in front of me pointing finger.  Disengage power slide, slip and skid to a stop.

TEACHER!! I SAW YOU!! ABOVE LEVEL ABOVE LEVEL ABOVE LEVEL!!!!

Okay.  See you in class.

Slide open door to first class and am immediately showered in ABOVE LEVEL!!!  40 kids in unison.  I’m jealous, I can’t get them to do anything at the same time.  Kind of dumbfounded.  Kids are having great, great time with this.  Figure go with it.

A little background on Stewardess.  She wants to be a doctor, but I think she’d be the best stewardess ever.  Explained.

She hushes class from their chorus.

Teacher!  I saw you.  GIRLFRIEND!!  ABOVE LEVEL ABOVE LEVEL ABOVE LEVEL ABOVE LEVEL!!!  HAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH!!!!

Kids are cackling like I just peed my pants.  Ask for a little more explanation and get the jist.  Stewardess believes that my girlfriend, who’s not Korean, is way too hot for me.  Have no problem with this, but realize that I’m going to be eating ABOVE LEVEL sandwiches all day.

What can go wrong?  Ask Stewardess to describe girlfriend.  Students are very impressed with her summary.  She’s not satisfied.  Runs up to board, grabs chalk, scribbles furiously.  Caricature of girlfriend looks like Jessica Rabbit (Roger Rabbit’s wife… you know… from Who Framed Roger Rabbit… Bob Hoskins was in it… Christopher Lloyd was the judge that hated ‘toons’ and dipped them in barrels of chemicals with “not just ordinary” gloves… I digress).  Draws me next.  Look like Quasimoto with ebola.  Happy class.  Continue talking for rest of period about how inadequate I am compared to her.  She’s Lee Hyo Ri (or Lee, can’t remember… the fucking singer) and I’m E Myung Bak.  She’s a supermodel and I am the monster from The Host.  Learn that I am not housebroken as well.

This keeps going for next 3 classes.  Ever play the telephone game?  Tried it with 500 bored high school students that know where you are all day?  Throw in some freshly buffed hardwoods and you’ve got a party.    By last period, my gal’s tits are rumored to be the size of China, but not dirty like China.  Very clean.  She’s also 8 feet tall and has 4 sets of perfect teeth.  Not sure how that’s hot, but they were digging it.  Exhausted at end of day and beginning to wonder if Stewardess has a point.  Only have one set of teeth.  Not perfect.  Kid in last period class asks how to get ABOVE LEVEL.  Has look in his eyes like I hold some ancient secret.  Give him the truth.  Learn to cook and give lots of head, but not shitty head.  That’s detrimental to the cause.  Skip explanation of head.

Off the the grocery store I go.  Real spaghetti and garlic bread tonight.  Like being ABOVE LEVEL.

shipping

Grain mill hasn’t arrived.  Call DHL.  Nice gentleman tells me that it cleared customs a few days ago.  Okay.  Why hasn’t it been delivered?  Oh.  I have to pay 340% import tax.  Seems rather low.  Turns out that is the tariff for any grain that you ship into Korea.  Awesome.  It’s metal.  Courteous employee very confused.  15 minute English lesson on how beer is made from barley, which needs to be malted and then milled before the brewing process.  Rage level 3.

Correction!  20% tax.  Nice.  Go me. 20% tax on 200 dollars… fuck me.  Original price was$30.  Ask where they got $200 number.  On invoice.  Pretty sure my friend wrote $30 when he sent it.  Hang up.  Email friend to check.  Yep.

Wander aimlessly in parking lot.  Its Parent’s Day.  Notice parking lot is very full.  All cars are white, black or silver.  Bland.  Witness parent back into my bike and fail to notice.  Rage numerically incalculable.  Yell and book it toward car.  Wave arms like just spotted a rescue plane.  Fleeting hope.    Parent fails to back over bike and is very testy with me for yelling at them.  Still doesn’t notice bike.  Rubbing temples.  Must be brain aneurysm.

Call be DHL.  Can’t find invoice.  Don’t care anymore.  Just ship the fucking thing.  Planning on paying tax with change.  Wondering how long it will take to count out 400 coins.  Phone rep hears my thoughts and delivers counterstrike.  Mill passed customs 5 days ago, will be charging me for 2 days storage.  These are the next two days.  They will need 2 days to vigorously stretch/carb loading to prep for lifting my 11 pound behemoth.  This will fail.  New plan!  DHL builds time machine to transport Dolph Lundgren off the Rocky IV set.  Only human capable of lifting 11 pounds. Ever.

Charging me for time machine fabrication, engineering and catering for staff.  Blood flowing out of ears.

Decide to skip Parent’s Day talent show.  Explain that I fear for autobike’s life with so many white, silver and gray cars around.  Life is precious.

Email Jim Cramer at CNBC.  Hot tip that DHL’s stock from a bitter English teacher in Korea.  Company goes under in 9 days.

9 days later, Obama signs new 2 trillion dollar legislation to bailout DHL.

Dicks.

Got The Black Lung Pop, Obama=Shithead

Been sick.  Coming up on 6 years of pack a day suffocation.  While I don’t get sick very often, when I do it’s all lung butter and blood for a week.  Tried nicotine patch/not smoking for a day.  Fail!  Reading Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking now.  Supposed to have 95% success rate.  Supposed to smoke while you read the book.  Makes for a very strange read.

Another esteemed smoker is President Obama.  Change.  Yes We Can.  Asshole.  I’ve been arguing with people since this turd began floating that he’s a finely tuned puppet.  Didn’t vote for him.  Voted for Ron Paul who will never be President and if he was, would be assassinated for disobedience ie JFK.  Drives me nuts when people say that I don’t like him because he’s black.  Just as racist to assume that he will be a good President because he’s black.  More so in my opinion.  Before you rail on me for my lack of evidence, you should check out this movie.  “The Obama Deception” by Alex Jones.  It’s on streaming sites like quickflicksnow.com, YouTube and easy to find on torrents.  He has a few movies slamming Bush for his shennanigans.  As Tharp points out below, AJ is a pretty controversial dude, but the movie has some good points along with the usual over the top conspiracy stuff.  I’m not a Republican or Democrat, I say burn the motherfucker down and start again.  Probably why I don’t live there anymore.