tell me a story...

i think i must have been much more creative when i was younger. in grade school, my teachers were very fond of the seasonal writing assignment. we'd have to write stories about Christmas, Valentines Day, Veterans Day, and such. i enjoyed these assignments, and according to my teachers, i was pretty good at it too. in junior high, i went so far as to start writing my own book. it was full of adventure that only a 7th grader could appreciate. my english teacher encouraged this by writing library passes so i could go and sit for 42 minutes and tap out my brain on the keyboard of a computer. my style needed work but the idea was good. i was told this when i was on chapter four. it was my last chapter.

one problem i always had when starting to write a story was figuring out the title. most of the time, it would be provided by a friend or classmate and then my brain would take it from there. i recall a time in 6th grade where we were asked to write 'any story'. the day before it was due i still had no idea what to write about. my best friend suggested, "The Man on the Moon". Click! I banged out a 5 page story in about an hour. it was probably one of the better stories that i have ever written.

writing in this blog on a regular basis is bringing back some of the fun that i used to have with the homework assignments that everybody else hated. maybe i'll write a story sometime just for fun...but then again, i'd need a title. suggestions from the peanut gallery?

gangsta geek

some moog comes up and he's like: Dizzle! Dat BS-sizzle won't step!
and I'm like: Muthafuckah!
and he's like: Fo-shizzle!
and I'm like: Muthafuckah!
and he's like: Smat! Big honkey comin' down!
and I'm like: Shiiiit! Big honkey gone be mad!
and then I'm like: let's sizzle...if radio don't bump, it must be all funked.
and he's like: Johnny Cochrane? Dat yo bitchass?
and I'm like: da fuck?! shutup.
and he's like: yea.
and I'm like: ...so we put the hook-up on it and...biiiiiiatch! y'all processes not feelin' each otha...!
and then I'm like: dis don't know whuz crackin' wit dat bitch there. mutha-fuckah put it in the wrong box!
and he's like: "B" to the mothafuckin' "yotch".
and I'm like: Canigetta witness?
and he's like: Hell yea!


Disclaimer: The above conversation was real, but it took place in english.

hillarious

from www.ebaumsworld.com - one of the funniest websites on the planet.

Frank can't obtain an erection so he goes to the doctor. The doctor tells him the muscles at the base of his penis are broken down and there's nothing he can do unless he's willing to try an experimental surgery.
Frank asks what the surgery is and the doctor tells him they take the muscles from the base of a baby elephant's trunk, insert them in the base of his penis, and hope for the best. Frank says that sounds pretty scary but the thought of never having sex again is even scarier, so he says ok.
The doctor goes ahead and performs the surgery and about 6 weeks later the gives frank the go ahead to "try out his new equipment". Frank takes his wife out to dinner. While at dinner Frank starts feeling incredible pressure in his pants.
It gets unbearable and he figures no one can see him so he undoes his pants. No sooner does he do this his penis pops out of his pants, rolls across the table, grabs a dinner roll, and disappears back into his pants.
His wife sits in shock for a few moments, and then gets a sly look on her face. She says, "That was pretty cool! Can you do that again?" With his eyes watering and a painful look on his face, Frank says, "Probably, but I don't know if I can fit another dinner roll up my ass."

colder than a...

...if you know me, you know the rest of that expression. but anyways, work has once again driven me to life in the lab. A lab that could be confused with the North Pole except for the lack of snow and elves. I am typing this wearing my winter hat and down parka and am still freezing off my left nut. With all the radios/base stations/other computer gear, you'd think this place would be about 150 degrees. Nope. Well, I'm off to stick my tongue on a metal equipment rack to see if it sticks. That's got to be an OSHA violation of some sort.