The Badly Written Sitcom

     I’ve got a new home now…

     The year started with me living with The Orlains… but my lifestyle couldn’t really make that transaction possible. So, I moved in somewhere that’s a little more flexible. I now join Jeorge and Robin’s little lovenest in Fairwoods, and after an entire week of endless days… i can only shudder in anticipation as to the new memories that we are still about to make.

     Already we have a hole in the wall courtesy of a heartbroken punch, drank twice our body weight in booze, finished a ream of cigarettes, invented a new way to drink (it involves something like a syringe) and we have people coming over and doing shit I can’t even write about here.

    So… I’m a fucking college boy again. Jesus.

     I just turned 25 and on the day of my birth… nothing happened. Years ago, my natal day produced memories whose levels of insanity toe the line of the legendary. This time around, there was just me, at home, diddling my joystick. (I was playing video games you perv.)

    I was uber-pissed, man… it was my 25th and fate decided to step in and shit on my plans.

   Let’s go back to my heart attack a few years back, shall we? At 21… I was told I would die. Then I didn’t. So I learn that life is short so we should live everyday to the fullest and all that young, impulsive crappy as philosophies. Fuck, I spent the entire month of December drinking and wallowing in sorrow and on the day which I actually have a reason to get drunk and stupid, there was me… not drunk and stupid.

    And it’s my 25th, man. Based from my infantile calculations this should be my last birthday before I move on. (Either grow up or leave this plane.)

   So, with my twisted logic, I decided to go out and make up for the day the entire year.

    This is the last year of my life. At least, that’s how I’m living it.

     And Paeng, yes, I will be back. Soon…

    (Again, this entry was brought to you by Ivan… The Human Torch. He always hot… and he’s burning cds for me.)