A letter to my long lost love

Dear internet,

Oh how I miss you. It has been weeks since we parted, and my life without you is empty. I get to work on time, I get things acomplished, yes. But if only I had known it would be at the expense of time spent in my chair staring at you for hours, I'd take it all back. You were always so reliable, there whenever I needed you. You always provided me with entertainment in various forms - your myspace, your blogspot, your youtube. Oh how I miss your youtube. I don't know how to get through my day without seeing skateboarding accidents, dogs doing human-like tricks, and remakes of music videos with stick figures changing the words to what it sounds like the singer is saying, but isn't.

Things are looking bleak here. It seems as though I won't be able to see your smiling screen for another two weeks. The only comforting news I have for you is that my shiney new cushy chair is waiting, my desk is unpacked in anticipatipon. I will gaze upon you soon.

Love,
Me

I bet the youngest can buy vodka by now...

Or at the very least, his own porno.

Jeeeeeezus, I feel old. ish.



btw, when did the oldest get kind of hot? And kind of resemble old school Heath Ledger? You know, like, before he bellied up from the horrible stress of fame... (too soon?) Middle one still looks like an Olsen twin, though. Yeesh - that's irony for you. Fo shizz.


Good luck with your comeback, Hanson, you'll need it. I still have yet to meet anyone who actually admits to buying your first album. (I swear, it wasn't mine... I borrowed it from a friend)

The joy found in a lack of pills

I took my class to the computer lab to type their poems, which is usually a pretty mundane day for me:
Walk class to lab.
Watch them type.
Yell at someone to get the freak off myspace.
Watch them type.
Try to entertain myself with my non-populated email inbox.
Watch them type.
Scold someone loudly for looking at half nekkid pictures of Kim Kardashian. (Dumbass)
Sit there with my thumb up my ass...
Watching them type.

I did a quick round to make sure they were all on task, and I notice that Jake is on Microsoft Paint, scribbling away like a bat out of hell... for no apparent reason.

Before I can say a word...
Jake: WHAT AM I DOING???!! I AM SOOOO A.D.D.!!!!!!!
Closes paint window and gets back to pretending to type.


The best part is, I don't even think he knew I saw him.



Later... and also for no apparent reason...
Jake: Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, AN UNMEDICATED BOY!
Gestures to self, whom is *truly* unmedicated for the time being.