Friday, August 7, 2009

get the fuck out of iran and afghanistan, America, and deal with your shit

I came up with four gorgeous sentences on the way to you blog, but I've since lost them. The weather outside is frightful. I felt like a reuben sandwich today and it felt bad, let me tell ya. I keep coming up with jokes and when I tell them I get a laugh but then get immediately bored of them and don't see why I can't do a show where I have fresh material hourly.

I'm only blogging because I'm starting to sense the start of a rabid fan base. AM I right or am I right?

My head hurts. L.A is truly a decent pitstop on your way to heaven, but that's the best I can say. I found out 500 more pieces of the missing puzzle today and I'm just glad we chose the path of most resistance.

Whomever this notaro is and whatever she is(and let's get real: She never would or did interest me. She must know that if she even is 4 percent sane. I think that is what drove her off the deep end-- the fact that she would never be interesting to someone like me.) you are about to get found out and unlike you I will be at all your court hearings and asking for the max. I would pity you if I thought you belonged anywhere but a cage for the rest of your measly life. And tell the fat and stupid Allison Sievers that she's cooked.
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