"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

Tyler Durnten, Fight Club

So I am reading Uncle Bob's diary, listening to him rant hard at his very shitty weekend. Oh and a note to UB, fucking damn!!! Next time pack a cooler full of food and show them what good eating is like. My god, what are these people, fucking gerbals. I would end up fucking nawing my foot off, smearing it with ketchup. Then picked it clean right in front of there eyes. Oh and surival tip, hair is edible, so when they sleep, get your clippers and go to town. Toss it in a bowl and mix in some garnishes and salad dressing so it only taste a little better then hot garabage. But I digress....

But as I was saying, I am reading Uncle Bob's diary and I read this....

Got stuck in Nashville church traffic at which time Andy decided to have the mother of all baby shits in his diaper.

Shit went everywhere. His car seat was covered in shit.

I fucking nearly chooked with laughter at this one. I mean I was so blind sighted by it I just busted out laughing my balls off. I covered my mouth, desperate to not wake anyone and to not be heard by anyone on the streets. But I felt like I was stoned cause I couldn't stop giggling and coughing cause I was giggling so bad. God damn it Uncle Bob!!! Next time you bust out a line that funny... give me some advanced warning so I aint found dead in my apartment afixeated on my own vomit from coughing so hard. I don't know my laughing so hard was a result of suprise and a complete lack of sleep. Or did have something to do with my predilication towards dick and fart jokes *shit being a sub-catagory of this*. Ah well, its a mystery best left unsolved.

*I just scrolled up and read it again....fuckin aye! I am still giggling at this shit.*

So I got a new little mystery on my hands that is drving me compeltely in-fuckng-sane. It seems if I don't watch my food constantly, it seems to disapear from my fridge and cabenet. Now I know it has to be some of my friends, but I am not sure so far which of them is sneaking my food. But then again, sometimes it seems to be gone when no one has been around. So this is either

A. People are breaking into my house and ravishing my food to apease the munchies.

or

2. My food is holding secret meetings when I am alseep. Making elaborate plans for escape. This is how I see it. The hamburger in the freezer, well it don't give a fuck either way. It just hopes one of its other paddy friends gets taken to death row before he does. The garlic bread, on occasion I get one with a "need to fly" deeply inrooted in its tiny little yeast packed body. Now chips, every time they see a gap in the defenses, they make a run to the border. Which is my fault, never keep an easily acessable food with no need to cook lying around and not expect it to be eaten. Whcih you can't blame me..... I get hungry and lazy, and thats a bad comibination if I still want something to go with my sandwhiches and burgers. Now, on the rare occasion, a pack of hot dogs comes up missing. Which has me baffled as hell. I can understand why a couple of them would disapear at a time. Little cylindrical fuckers just rool right out the door. Now, you would think when the whole pack disapears, its a team effort to rip through that damn bag. But how come I never find the empty bag. Maybe theres a secret stash of archaic empty hot dog buns ...maybe little bits and pieces of hot dogs lost in there forced to go caniblistic and eat each other while drinking there own piss *I swear that water in the pack is piss cause there sure is a lot of it and I am thinking they packed those hot dogs dry. THen they figure out whats going on and piss themselves in fear*. Now I have figured out who the ring leader of this is. Its that god damn bottle of mustard!!! God damn French and there fucking revolutions. It might taste good on a hot dog or a hamburger, but I swear if I ever catch that bottle of mustard in one of his meetings there is going to be hell to pay!!!

Ok so I am tired

and

I get even more goofey when I am tired. If you can believe that. I mean, just when I reach the apex of goofey for you people. I pull another crazed foaming at the mouth crack monkey out of my hat.

So I am off to bed, and you all better pray I sleep very soundly and not wake during one of my dreams. Or I swear to christ I am typing word for word what happened during it then mixxing you all a prozac milk shake laced with vodka and sleeping pills to calm your frigid nerves.

Later

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003