Still punk rock.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWxOmuB6TD4

Moving back to Dover after a whopping 2 weeks at home. Ha! The Works is psyched to have me back. Fuck moving shit. I'm all over the place as usual, but that chronic thinking thing I do...well, it pays off when I have contingency plans for everything. Does that make me a flake or an asshole? I know people who would think so, but I'm proud of myself ( Read more... )

My hands are sore and red. I'm covered in bruises, which is totally hot-- ask anyone. I'm not nearly as strong as I need to be to be a good mover. I didn't realize I was in such crappy shape and didn't remember how much getting in shape sucks. This summer is going to be torture.

I forgot what I looked like with cheekbones and visible torso muscles. My chest kind of got torn up. Blood blood blood. It might be on the road to infection. A dog kept coming into Bagel Works today from next door. It would walk around and find me, then I'd bring it back. It would follow me back to Bagel Works. All the old ladies thought the whole ( Read more... )

New job. New hair.

Time to stop being a huge asshole.

so stressed. so tired. so trapped.

Ok, so that dam broke. I am now living in a high school that has been converted into a shelter/bordello (of blood). Just kidding. The dam broke, but they somehow diverted the water to a frat house and made $1,000,000 in relief efforts once they convinced several girls named Jennifer that drinking it would make them feel pretty and popular...at 5 ( Read more... )

"I didn't even have time to pack my razor," he said, stroking stubble that he figures will be close to a beard by the time he gets back home. He worried how his two cats would make out, since he had to leave them behind: "I put out some extra food for them. I hope they'll be okay."

I know how they'll make out! With their mouthsOk, River Road is ( Read more... )