doobie doobie doooo...

that wasn't a subtle marijuanna reference at all, in case that's what you were thinking you stupid 17 year old wannabe psychadelic-mushroom-stitched-patch-saftey-pinned-on-yer-gay-ass-backpack sportin "half baked is the funniest movie ever" sayin sum-41-nut-suckin aunt-jemihma-fuckin gary-busse-hatin bed-wettin piece of fucking trash. just for the record.

i just realized i am the only one in my office. everyone went home. and i'm sitting alone in my cubicle with the lights dimmed typing a diary entry. oh dear god i want to die now.

so whaddaya think of the new template action? eh? eh? pretty fucking classy if i say so myself. and i do.

yea so one time dr. nick and i were really bored and we used his webcam to make an after school special with spawn figures as the actors and this was the song that went at the end of it: "don't do druuuuuuugs, or you might get kiiiiiiiilled, and nobody - likes - to - be - deaaaaaad dooooood don't do druuuuuuuugs, drugs make yooooooou, a bad per - son - and - jump off buiiiiildiiiiiiings, dooooooooooood." well i thought it was pretty funny.

speaking of drugs and songs and songs about drugs, one time my friend goim and i wrote a song about this kid emojoe and it went like this: "don't do drugs! don't do drugs! don't do drugs or you'll talk like joe! don't do drugs! don't do drugs! don't do drugs drugs hella suck bro! i knew this guy his name was joe, he'd say to me "what's up bro?", but the last time i checked i wasn't his brother, and that's a good thing cuz i fucked his mother, don't do drugs! don't do drugs! don't do drugs or you'll talk like joe! if you ever meet joe i just wanna warn ya, he talks like he's from california, but he's really from new york, why you ask? cuz he's a stupid fucking emo dork! don't do drugs! etc." we played it at a show under the name "So-Co Oh-No!" and emojoe cried as per usual.

one time i was asleep and i woke up and i thought my dog was humping my leg cuz he's kind of weird like that sometimes and the bed was shaking and i kicked him the fuck off the bed but then the bed was still shaking and i was like "what in the name of high school football?" and i realized we were having an earth-quake and after it was over i felt kinda bad that i had questioned the sacred bond of trust involving my dog and humpage of leg and by extention the propultion of his tiny body across the room (and he probably didn't wake up till he was in mid air which is kind of humorous) so to make up for it i gave him a "hump one leg and move to baltic ave." card which he still hasn't used and that kind of hurt my feelings but then i remembered he can't read but that's only cuz i never taught him so it's not really his fault that he grew up in an underprivilaged houshold and by yet another extention (a much different extention than the previous) is not at the same reading level as other dogs his age.

pepsi one is fucking gross and so is marsha wallace.

rock the parcel.

uh huh.

word.