I thought that by mocking the concept of the tiny destructive robot, I would flush the sender out of hiding. Apparently he or she is too crafty for such a tactic. I will now resort to ignoring the whole damn thing unless explicitly questioned about it. Then I’ll casually say, “Hmm everybody else stopped talking about that months ago. That means the sender must be YOU!” Then I’ll hit the person with my bop gun. BAMF, and they be funkdified before you can shake the crust out your eyes.
In other news, I will be attending a dirty christmas party this evening. The idea behind this party is that everyone shows up with a wrapped present of ill repute, be it movie, toy, novelty underpants, or butt plug. All of the presents are placed under a tree and you proceed to get drunk off your ass. At 10:00 everyone picks one present from beneath the tree and opens it. VOILA! Your very own double-headed dildo! Last year I ended up passed out on the floor. If ever there was an environment that you don’t want to end up passed out in, it is a dirty christmas party. Needless to say, I was set up as a perverted marionette by amused drunks and pictures were taken. Damn them all.
Happy Birthday Paul! Hope your bday works out well, with drinks and sex all around.
We have had hurricane force winds and rain like nobody’s business for the last two days. Unfortunately our apartment seems to be made out of paper and masking tape, as our roof in our dinig room is leaking slightly. I hope to shit that it gets fixed soon.
Also, due to god spitting in my eye, it will most likely be shit weather for the 49er/Packer game tomorrow. We apparently have paid a shit-ton of money to sit in a tornado and watch Brett Favre poop his pants and play Monopoly on the 50 yard line.
The countdown is on. Less than 7 days until I hop on a plane bound for the cold midwest. To say I am excited is an understatement.