Hey you, naked chick with tattoos that are so non-conformist and interesting. Bring me a fucking brisket.

Seriously, this has to be some kind of awful joke. We're all going to jail, put some fucking clothes on.

The holidays are always full of suprises. One year it's the fact that you're 26 years old and your older sister has absolutely no idea what you're about and buys you a shitty fratboy-esque t-shirt that says "Conserve Water, Drink More Beer." The next it's that your mother accidentally contracted herpes from an ice machine at a hotel in Nagodoches.

Well this year the suprise is the out of left field revelation that I'm a complete homosexual. How does one come to this conclusion? It starts out with top ten lists of 2007 on Time Magazine's website. Then it involves top ten songs of the year, then it has me listening to this song over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. God dammit, fuck you time magazine. Fuck you for making me want to do all the carnal things I dreamed about as a small boy. Fuck you for making me incapable of saying I completely hate the Plain White T's. FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!



"Fuck me?" says Time Magazine. "No, GraveDiggerJesus, FUCK YOU!"

And I let him.

You know, I was thinking I really should move to Minneapolis. Hey one friend? You know who you are Alyk. What do you think? Should I move to Minneapolis?

I was on here once a long time ago. Okay, like 2 years ago. I guess people leave and come back all the time. I'm now some kind of statistic. Love me for my big red beard and my angry sense of humor.

Now give me a lap dance. No, not you. The one with the penis. That's right. Right there.