holidays are no excuse for bad music

despite the fact that this blog is long over due, and also destined to be the most raggy piece of garbage you have ever read, i will do my best to woo you with my complex verbiage and over the top sentence structure.
lately it has come to my attention that people are starting to display christmas music on their myspaces as if it is actually a real source of pleasurable listening, which in fact it is not. i momentarily fell into this trap that has been miraged as "holiday spirit," but fear not fellow man, i have seen the error in my ways. i have righted my nearly fatal path and have instead decided to bless you and your auditory senses with an old favorite of mine. it is entitled "the prayer" and it is written and performed by the band bloc party.
this brings me to my second piece, which will be concise and nearly nonexistant. here goes: i love it when bands carefully misspell themselves into super stardom.

del the smell

i was talking to delia last night and here are the highlights:
you know what scratch that,
i have been writing in bullet form way too much lately.
so here goes:
i started out talking to delia last night,
just saying the normal stuff:
"we should hang out some time."/"we would have cool stories to tell if we hung out."
then she laughed because i said she was vivacious (yes it is my word of the week).
and from there it was like the snowball effect.
i mean i have heard the word slap happy before,
but it was in full efeect last night.
there were all sorts of laugh out louds and chuckles.
i made her spit coffee out of her ears (ya i know, i am friggin impressive).
then we went on AIM (ya i capitalized something, murder me, i dare you).
after that i remembered what my doctor had said about taking it easy.
so i had to slow down the pace on the myspace messages/picture comments.
now i am in friend love,
and i posted a picture of me and delia playing baseball.
here it is:

(no it isn't photoshopped...
it was just weird lighting that day at the ball field...
she smashed a homer late in the third inning though.)
after i posted the picture,
we talked about disney movies and future professions
me: misisonary, youth pastor, musician...
her: college english professor, writer, missionary (later in life)...
then we talked about kenya a bit.
then i explained what i wanted to do with my life,
while she explained friend love.
then we called it a night...
overall, the best conversation i have had with someone in a while.
very surprised.
del the smell gets a ten out of ten in my book (no, not my little black book).

new series

i have decided to make a new series called:
(drum roll)
"100 ways i will never spend my friday night"
i will go five at a time,
and i will probably only reach thirty,
because i am not nearly creative enough to come up with 100.
so new title:
(slightly more realistic/unenthusiastic drum roll)
((which i almost always want to spell drum rool))
"30 ways i will never spend my friday night"

1. going to a pro-drink and drive convention.
2. watching the simpsons (i have never found it funny).
3. buying a puppy.
4. watching HSM2.
5. watching HSM1

cart barn

ok,
even though i am 100% pretty certain that no
one will ever read this blog
i am still going to go ahead and write it.

today was my first day of work,
my boss is kind of a d.
i am not allowed to wear my current plugs,
because they are far to noticeable.
my manager is rascist against the majority of the people
that i work alongside (mexicans).
i never stop moving during the whole day.
it gets hot.
i have to drive a cart that picks up all the balls on the
driving range, and it is covered in mesh
so it hurts my eyes when i drive it.
i learned that i think it is funny when well-to-do
adults have conversations when they are
drunk, and they cuss more than the
average sailor.
i do get free food from the restaurant
in the club,
but the time i spend eating my free food
is not paid for.
so i guess what i am saying is that
i don't get paid to eat their food.
i have to tuck in my shirts at all hours of the job.
my legs hurt.
i work 7-8 hour shifts.
i don't get nearly as good of tips as i thought
(unless the other emplyees are stiffing me,
which would ultimately be the suckiest thing ever
{note to self: look into whether you are being
stiffed by the other employees})

answers to all your questions:
i work at mission viejo country club.
no i didn't get fired from my last job.
i had a hot dog for lunch.
yes there is a guy named jose at my work.
i get paid $8.50 an hour.
i got $5 dollars in tips today.
no, high school musical 2 is still not cool.

concerning selfishness and modern medicine

thank God for modern medicine.
this is no place to die.
thank God for modern medicine.

i'm screaming at your blood cells.
"mulitply!"
"multiply!"
i'm screaming at your lungs now.
"don't collapse!"
"don't collapse!"

so much like twins

does anyone find it fishy that these two girls look so similar.
i wonder if they are twins seperated at birth.

miley cyrus



hannah montana


and what kind of name is hannah montana.
who would name their child that.
what is the deal with this?
i smell some sort of conspiracy.

speaking of twins:

mullet

ya that is right,
i have one.
but i don't
know how long
i am going to
keep it.
so try and see
me before i cut
it all off.