It's... alive...

Debt consolidation, firehouse casinos, adult toys, and hot teens... Wow, my guestbook is more exciting than my blog now! That's what happens when you (insert bitching about why I havent blogged in X amount of time here). But don't worry, (insert hollow promise to blog more often here).

(End with angsty rant).

Damn I'm good at this.

Realizing Joy

When the Blogger is away the Guestbook will play. If you have been visiting this site more than I have in the past week or two, you will note that three very distinguished people have visited my guestbook. They first is of course Hamza, aka The Brown Boy, who is a great site designer but a shitty content guy. I swear if I see him post another "Friday Five" I am going to have to strangle him.


Here's the Wednesday One.
If you have nothing to write about, what do you put in your blog?
I put nothing. As opposed to fabricated content like the Friday Five!


If you dont know what the Friday Five is, I am sure you can investigate his site and find out, as that's all he does.

The second is Elly, who has yet to pack up and come live with me.

The third is Bambi B Naked. She's the greatest of them all, let me assure you.

I've been stood up!

Mood: No one cares
Currently listening to: Shitty music

I can't express my mood in words so I need a little blurb at the top of my angst-ridden little post, with maybe a cutesy little angry face to show you I really mean it. I am also enlightening you as to what I am "listening to"... what does that even mean?

Do people just randomly put up the name of some song they pirated off of Napkazaablingwhatever? Do they play this song while they type their blog? If this supposed to set the mood for me, then should I go find this obscure indy trance bullshit and listen to it while I read what you have to say? Will it make sense to me then? Will it be like... a soundtrack to your inner thoughts? Perhaps I will have to try this sometime for the sake of experiment.

Oh right, the title. Yeah Darcey stood me up on Saturday. She owes me big now. Not that I particularly wanted to go out drinking if I would be toting her around like a rag doll while she was hopped up on medication (I am not in a fraternity, dont you know), but she still owes me. Here I am experimenting with informing someone of something via blog, as I have not privately informed her of this debt. This explorative blogger will let you know how the transmission of said information goes over.

In guestbook news, I am finally getting feedback. In fact, Smitha stopped by. Her site is grand. Lots of eye candy. For some reason she thinks I'm a good artist. Go look at her work and then correct her for me. And one of Hamza's random women says I have a good heart...

Someone explain to me how making fun of people and cussing a lot makes me a good person? Is it that hard for me to hide?

Fuck, I need to think of something evil.

Die Deutschen kommen!

I'm impressed. I thought I was familiar with all manners of unsolicited advertisements--from pamphlets under my windshield wipers to spam email. But no, there is apparently one more to add to that list. Guestbook spam. And not just any guestbook spam... German guestbook spam. What fucking aspect of my site gave them the idea that I could read their deutch bicycling website? Or did they target me because I wasn't German... Could this be the rise of the Fourth Reich? The emergence of an Internet Hitler, hell-bent on conquering the digital world? Crazy fucking germans.

Speaking of crazy,(did you like that segue there?) I am about to walk up to the UN and kick their beaurocratic, lard-infused asses. Impotent bastards don't even have the balls to enforce their own resolutions. You know what happened last time the world wanted peace so much? WW2. Did today's international diplomats sleep through that one? The saying "Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity" is cute and almost witty. It even looks good on a bumper sticker... but it also happens to be ridiculously and ignorantly false.

So today, a couple days after gridlock in the UN stalled the upcoming war, the UN is waiting for a report from Iraq that is supposed to account for 4 tons of VX gas supposedly in their posession. The report was supposed to be delivered to UN officials in Baghdad today, but it is now 11pm in Iraq. They have recieved no word on the report, and have been unable to contact any Iraqi officials on the issue.

You know, I am not allowed to turn in an assignment even 2 minutes late at Georgia Tech. I get a 0. If that gets me a failing grade in the class, then it affects my GPA, which may result in me failing out of school. And all that for a trivial assignment on first-order logic. Apparently however, once I leave college and become the dictator of a small country, I am no longer accountable for my actions, and can turn in information on my deadly chemical weapons whenever the hell I feel like it!

This is bullshit. We should walk out of the UN and kick their headquarters off of our continent. Then we should invade Iraq. Yes, I really believe that.

Archive layout fixed. Archives themselves still fucked.

Bitch bitch bitch Eric. Shut the hell up! I'm trying to blog here. And that involves whining about my layout and my page and all that is wrong with the world. Or so this site would have me believe.

World hunger sucks too. So does war. And taxes. See, I hate stuff, now you can identify with me cause you hate it too and you admire the way I am expressing myself. In fact, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

I think so Eric, but where are we going to get 2 clones of Jennifer Connelly and a hypnotist?

While that thought is quite appealling, I was referring to taking over the world via Blog! All I have to do is find the one thing in the world that everyone hates, and bitch about it. Then the mindless masses will identify with me, and love me, and I can use my influence over them to institute a new world order with me as king!

Since you readers were so quick to post your thoughts on why my archive page sucked (aside from the content), I doubt I will ask you to respond via my still-shitty guestbook. Also, while you're not posting your ideas of things everyone in the world hates, could you also not post some other free guestbook sites that actually look good?

Thanks!

Why does my archive page look like shit?

Feel free to enlighten me via my also shitty looking guestbook, oh wise (ass) bloggers.

Not that I have anything to archive really. My blogger is like the USA of bloggers. It's younger than all the others but still talks like it knows what it's doing. Don't you love that? Of course you do, you have an opinion on everything. Why don't you go write about it!

On that note, it is usually very interesting when I am carrying on a political discussion with my friends. By friends I mean close friends, not the assholes I hang out with on a regular basis. I can't talk about politics with them. It's like asking for a cock joke. Here's an example:

Eric: Hey Jeff what do you think about the socioeconomic impact of a prolonged military presence in Ubakebezakhistan?
Jeff: Your mom weakened my socioeconomic standing last night by a whole dollar, and then impacted my prolonged cock!

See? Anyway, back to the discussion about my discussions with those of my friends who are not obsessed with talking about cock. (Noticed I didn't precluded being obsessed with the male organ itself. This is important since most of the people in the world I can talk politics with are sexually active females). It's always amusing to talk politics since my general attitude, while decently well-informed, is still along the lines of "it's all good", and they have very (and I do mean very) specific opinions. One, for example is a die-democrats republican, and the other is a kill-republicans democrat. Speaking of socioeconomic standing, it's a shame really--The two would eat eachother alive in a cat-fight to which selling tickets at Georgia Tech would make me a fortune.

Now for an actual political opinion: The economy is going to decline anyway. Should we go to war or not? Flip a coin, it's all good.

Opinions subject to change.

It has come to my attention

So, it has come to my attention that just about every whine-to-the-web-easy-journal-brain-log has a Valentine's Day rant. Far be it for me to be left out! Here at Blogwhat? the intention is to explore Blogdom by wallowing in it like the muck that it is.

Valentine's Day is a great holiday. Valentine's Day is not the problem. In fact, the only thing I have a problem with are the fuckholes who date the girls I know. For some reason Valentine's Day is always a problem for them. For some reason they like to call a girl up on the phone the morning of the day itself and apologize with the excuse that they have to work that night and they can't go out. Bull shit you can't go out. If you were irresponsible enough not to get a sunday Valentine's Day off, then you're a failure of a man. If your boss for this job called you up by surprise and you didn't tell him or her "No" so you could spend the day with the best thing that's ever happened to you, then enjoy your job, dumbass. Me? I'll be on comfort detail trying to convince her that she's worth something, and trying to keep her from thinking about you just did to her. Inconsiderate cretins like you are the reason Valentine's Day sucks for so many people.

Has any of that ever happened to me on Valentine's Day? Nope. Hmmmm. Actually, readers (check it out I can use the plural now cause I have more than one), my problem with Valentine's Day is women like the aforementioned girl.

These fantastic, beautiful, intelligent girls like that who "spend their time waiting for the right guy with all the wrong ones". These are women who spend their formative years getting kicked to the curb by assholes who didn't even notice the bloodstain it left on their boot-toe. These women who have friends on hand that care for them more than anything, and want nothing more than to see them treated right. Very often these friends are male. Women like this leave a painful wake of well-intentioned, would-be lovers. These guys are the "right ones" that always have to wait until the women come to their damn senses. Or, more appropriately, these are the guys who have to wait until the women they love are done having their fun. These guys are guys like me.

I would just like to say that if one of you misguided wenches walks up to my door with a dramatic "I was wrong for so many years..." sob story, I'm gonna slam it in your face after saying "So was I."