Sandwiches, Softporn and Sealed Air Bags

Today, many things occurred. Originally it was just the one occurence, and I contemplated blogging about it. I was hesitant, but then all these other things happened and I felt obliged.

Thing number one, me and Pither encountered the devil; at least the form he takes on when in the physical plane. It was something you never wish to see or become part of, but sadly I am giving you no choice. You will be told.

——–

‘Twas the beginning of lunch and me and Ryan were fast becoming ravenous, so I altruistically opted to buy all of the lunches (all of them) because Ryan didn’t have tangible cash on him.

This was the first of many grave mistakes.

We each chose a “Chilli Chicken Wrap”. A frightening abomination, hidden behind the deceptive facade of such a tantalising name. We gently scooped up these seemingly wholesome snacks from the lukewarm bain-marie they sat so provocatively in. It only took one deft scoop to realise something was amiss: these repasts were unusually dense.

I reasoned with myself that this was due to a gratuitous amount of succulent chicken nestled deep within the heart of the meal. I was wrong, and soon I would pay for my ignorance.

We mastered the checkout, pausing only momentarily to see if they had overcharged us. They had, but comparatively this superfluous charge was a mere misdemeanour.

Ryan and I seated ourselves at a distant table, preparing ourselves for what we assumed was a delicious Chilli Chicken Roll. I became aware of something that had only then became apparent: the rolls were wrapped in a thin cocoon of plastic wrap. I thought it was general knowledge that hot food sweats when wrapped air tight!

I worriedly peeled back this erroneous entanglement, discovering the truth behind the absurd weightiness of the snack: it was…

Damp.

What was once a delicassy, had become deluged with dampness.

I wept a single tear, adding to the already gratuitous amount of moisture that could be found pooling at the bottom of this ruined repast.

I was determined to press on, and bravely slid my fingers through the pool of malice, nestling them safety against the underbelly of this eelish grub.

I gave my mouth all necessary prepatations for engulfing this amphibious morsel, but was not prepared for what came next. My mouth began to fill with a searing liquid, heat eminating from it that could rival the sun itself.

I couldn’t commit the social faux pas of regurgitating the food from my mouth, and as such I was forced to swallow.

Agony.

Agony, manifested as a tomato slid at a snails pace down my throat. I was speechless. Nothing could prepare somebody for the gauntlet this once harmless nourishment presented to me and Ryan that day.

My mortal body was taxed out, reaching it’s limit of pain and endurance. It would have only taken the slightest of pushes to tip me over the edge. With an implied smirk, the Beast provided exactly that. With the next bite, pain no longer blinded me. I could see, moreover taste, this snack for what it truly was. And with that bite, I tasted only egg.

I hate egg! It’s yucky! [sic]

With this crushing blow, my entirety reached it’s threshhold. No amount of satisfaction could justify the completion of this catastrophic encounter.

I refolded the plastic that has contributed to the spawning of this hellwrought entity. I once more scooped it up within my feeble grasp. I walked the walk of shame and concession.

With one sluggish movement, I dumped the flaccid snack where it belonged, in the trash receptacle.

It sneered at me as I walked back to the table; hands over the side of my head.

Ryan patted my back when I returned, consoling me from the withered state I had entered.

It was a day I won’t soon forget.

Exeunt.

——–

Sorry I couldn’t get any photos of that disgusto thing, my hands were like COVERED in egg water. It was the grossest stuff, but I guess you already heard all about it. Ryan ended up being guilted into eating the whole thing because I paid for it. Honestly, that thing was so rank I would’ve paid for him not to finish it. I’m not even sure if he’s still alive :/

Okay so up there, I mentioned that there were numerous things, and I’m a man who doesn’t lie about how many things I say occur. The exclusion to this rule is when I use the hyperbole “all the things” in which case I am suggesting at an inquantifiably large number of things that is in no way infinite.

I think people would pay for me to stop writing right now.

Well those guys can invest that cash in my middle finger ’cause I got SHIT to rant about!

Over at the Fort Unlimited, chief blog writer Iseeyou discovered an asburd art book, entitled “Draw Furries”.

I was in a bookstore today, checking out the art section for some cool graphic design books. Instead I found a book that is simultaneously the best and worst thing. It’s awesome, but I really can’t imagine how family appropriate it could be without ruining the awesomeness of it. I mean, not that I’m voyeuristic or anything.

:0

I’ll just show you the picture then :C

What a wonderful book.

I REALLY hope this is a flipbook.

Sorry about the quality of both this and any other ensuing photos in this post. Not only am I using my shitty phone camera, but also lately my hands have been shaking a bit for some reason. It can’t be coffee because I actually haven’t had that in a while. I think it might be something to do with nutrition or something.
My next news piece involves a package I received in the SNAIL MAIL. I was expecting it to be kind of small, but it turned out to be like, bigger than a backpack. About the same size as my computer tower, and it’s a brute of a thing (in all aspects except performance (the important one :/)).
There isn’t really much to say about it, so here’s a barrage of images:

Hey check out my huge package.

My needs are "URGENT" people, attend to them or face the WRATH.

Instead of bubble wrap or packaging peanuts, I got sealed air bags. They are the best, when you clap them behind people, they burst and EVERYONE IS SHOCKED.

Moving the pen, cord, and air bags aside I looked at the main item. It's my new tablet! Yaaaaaaay!

Here is my new tablet, the Wacom Intuos4 Medium. It is SO much larger than my old tablet.

By way of comparison, here is old v. new. Also some assorted junk near my bed :/

Well, that’s all the things that happened today, but it was all within one day so it was pretty exciting. Also, I think this is a contender for longest blogpost.
I look forward to seeing if Pithdog can “top dis shit” [sic].
Well, catch you all on the flipside, it was nice having something to blog about for once :D

Takorii and TrozzzyPeepEee keepin’ it RIZZNEAL

Alright.

Open dictionary. I said urban, dang nabbit.

HTC Wildfire if you and all your FRIENDS put FRIENDS WHaAHAHHAT.

Got together for a day, what would you do.

How the poop.

He needs to poop guys!

*light chuckling*

This serious didn’t write while I was talkin’ did ya.

Alright my t odo list:

Get home(o).
Complete Engrish Assignmentos.
smeel a dick
Doodies.
Lork????
Aw, damnit

TeethgritZ
PROXIMITY MINES ARE FUCKING TRIPPIN UP THE TANX AM I TELL YOU WHAT HARDESTS??S?S??

HARDETS what are HARDETS????????????????????????//?

worlds hardets man click here: http://www.mydickislongerthaturs.cum

WHAAT.

alright lets write HARDEST.

muckies you need to say muckises alrught , just say it with me “muckies” of yeah fells good dussment in?????

ABRASIVESZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

THERAPEUDICS

Life and Death – The Incoherent and Somewhat Inconvinient Truth

Do you really know what grinds my gears guys? And gals for that matter? It’s life. Life itself really pisses me off. Now I’m not going to get all emo on your ass. Because that would hurt, and be quite an inconvience.

Life is great. Don’t get me wrong. But it’s not like there’s any real alternative. Besides death. Which on some days, you know the days; when nothing is going right, you don’t feel well, your special someone just became that bitch you used to know. Yeah one of those days. Well on that day, the bleak alternative to life can seem so enthralling. So justified. So right.

I thrive on routine, but hate it nonetheless. But pithdog, life is routine! The sun rises at roughly the same time each day, the wind blows in predictable ways at predictable times, and your own body has a routine of sleeping after every 16 wake hours for 8 hours! Well fuck it. Fuck that shit. I’m sick of the constant never changing bull shit. And brad, Jason, Toby and Zara all know I’ve had this thought train before. Quite consistantly actually.

I’m like a bull at a gate, ready to be set free at that magical number (18) and unleash myself onto the world. I don’t want to be stuck in a small country town for the rest of my life. I want to see the world, I want to experience what there is to experience. I want to try absolutely everything once.

Fucking bullshit iPod deleted half of what i wrote. Grr.