LIFE OF MY STORY

I was walking the beach two days ago with my dogs.  As we made our way down the coast, I wondered when my life was going to be marvelous again.  Being a tad superstitious, I came up with one of those strange situations in my head and said to myself, “If I can toss this rock just past the whitewater, then everything was going to be OK starting tomorrow morning.”  I decided to throw the brick-shaped rock like a hook shot but didn’t extend my arm long enough.  I smashed the rock directly into my skull and had to lay on the cold beach for 10 minutes until the nausea and confusion subsided.

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I’m not a martial artist, but I feel confident in my ability to spot a faker.  There I was at the gym doing a little stretch when this anus started to pay tribute to Ralph Macchio.  With two different shoes and the body-type of a 12 year old girl, this guy wasn’t fooling anyone.  He is the gym ninja… master of his own imagination.

My one roommate almost always forgets about her food. She’ll make tacos and there will be three leftovers and if no one eats them, they will stay in the fridge until the smell draws someone in to throw them away. So I pretty much eat everything she puts in the fridge the second she’s done. Its amazing. It took me a while to figure this out, but after 5 or 6 trays of moldy sweet potato pie or ground taco turkey with guacamole, I figured it out. Life has never been better.

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Last night, I made a trip to Christopher Llyod’s Fun House in upstate New York.  When you get there, the ride starts off at the front door and ends in his bedroom.  Once in the bedroom, Christopher Llyod molested me and everyone I came with.  Telling people about this dream is not getting the sympathetic reaction I hoped for.