Hey team so I kicked the ever-living shit out of swine flu today. I definitely got it, that's for sure. I suppose my invincible immune system was slightly tarnished by the fact that I was run over by a fast-moving car yesterday and despite being a man of steel and beating the shit out of that unsuspecting car door with my knee my knee got a considerable amount of skin torn away and he ran over my foot and cracked some of my toenails (fuck yeah man I get my foot freakin' run over and all it does is crack two of my nails? I should be fist-fighting volcanoes or superman with this power).
So obviously my body has to swarm the fuck out of those injuries and murder the hell out of the bacteria and they didn't have chance but I'm sure they were in cahoots with swine flu since it snuck in while my beastly immune system absolutely ruined those lousy bacteria. But then it's like "oh shit we got swine flu" because the amount of sickly horrible people around me somehow outgunned my perfect hygiene and my weakened immune system.
So this is living proof the swine flu is a danger, nay, a menace to society - if I, a healthy strapping 98 year old with a weakened immune system can get it, who is safe? Who is safe I ask you?
But yeah back to kicking the shit out of it. When I woke up this morning I had a grade-A, magnitude 11 headache from hell and I could tell my immune system was kicking the shit out of everything it was near. I felt groggy and horrible, I had chills, and a powerful fever. It was an uphill battle as swine flu had already taken hold and I basically sat on my ass for 3 hour staring at the ceiling. I didn't move, or do much. I had a muffin.
Then around lunch I decided enough was enough and it was time to bring in the cavalry. I got myself a huge honking block of Colby jack cheese (about 2 pounds) and at all of it in one badass sitting. That's right, I ate about 2000 calories of cheese in about a half hour but I wasn't done. I got myself some strawberry-kiwi juice and some orange juice and some V8 juice. It was time for some motherfucking vitamins. I downed them all in an instant.
I could feel that I was doing better but it wasn't time to quit. The swine flu was drowning and sinking in a tidal wave of killer vitamins in a manner I imagine was quite similar to many of those corny medication commercials about taking care of foot fungus.
So I started yelling. And I mean, yelling yelling. I screamed at the swine flu at the top of my lungs and it was cowering in the corner of my darkest location of my body. It was preparing for a counter-attack, it was time to end this.
I gathered up my battlecruisers and stationed all my siege tanks around his base. He had a tone of spore and sunken colonies left so I couldn't get too close, I had to take my time. He was sending zerglings towards my position like crazy as well as a bunch of mutalisks but they were no chance against my now invincible stronghold. He was out of crystals and vespine gas.
All of a sudden, Captain Vitamins and General Minerals came flying in with hoards of archons and zealots, reaming their ground forces. My battlecruisers move in.
It's all over! Swine flu defeated! 3 hours, no ill-effects, I'm all better. Fuck yeah.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I should probably respect Native culture or something
Greetings fellows my name is Moleké of the Rain People and I am here to pass along my story so that it will never be forgotten in the histories.
It was a night of fog and dew with the shadows dancing favorably in the mist. The elder priests of our tribe told us the day of harvest grew near and that we should prepare our ritual sacrifice to appease the Gods of the Rain. They told me, "Moléké, you must be the one to prepare our ritual meal. Go now into the forest of the Rain and return to us with the food so that the Gods do not torment our harvest."
This was a very important task; if the feast is not performed according to our strictest ancestral traditions, the Gods will unleash their horrible plague upon the country. And it was I, Mõléké, who was given this great responsibility.
However I must tell you now before I continue my sad tale that I did not succeed in my mission. As the dawn of the harvest grew near I was unable to gather enough food from the unforgiving and dangerous forest and I wept for ages as I watched my people starve and die. This is the sad story of Mõ‡éké, the last of the Rain People.
I went into the forest 72 hours before the harvest was to begin. There it was that I found our most prized game, the wandering head of lettuce. The lettuce is the most important part of our ritual salad but also one of the most dangerous to hunt. I, MÕ¦ék¥é, am a skilled hunter and warrior but I have not often tamed wild lettuce.
It was a small herd but a formidable one with many sentries and powerful nodes to alarm the entire herd of any approaching danger. I used my training to the fullest extent but the slightest ruffle of leaves from my approach sent them scattering and klaxons blared across the forest louder than the greatest drums of my people.
I was ashamed that I could not catch the lettuce. It was required for our rituals and the great ceremony and feast but I could not even catch a single head of the wild beast. I hung my head low in disappointment and saw several stems of broccoli growing from the forest floor.
Now broccoli is not a traditional part of the great feast but the Gods would not know the difference. Broccoli, being one of the least intelligent and dim-witted of all the wild beasts in the forest, would not require as precise and delicate hands as lettuce or the wily tomatoes.
In hunting tradition, I, Andrew, very quickly set up a hammock to indicate the ease at which I felt I could capture the animal. I then sped after the broccoli in hot pursuit across the swamp. I pursued a small crowd and finally, after several hours of life's most dangerous game, I corned the wild creatures in the small of a tree. I scooped them into my pouch of bear skin and hollered triumphantly.
However, the Gods were not happy with our sacrifice. The harvest came and went, but everything we touched turned rotten and fell off of the stems. Great globs of beef lay strew across the land rotting as my people stared out and wept. It was a time of great sorrow.
I, Moe, was exiled back into the horrible jungle for failing to appease the Gods. That is where I still live. However, the Gods decreed that I was never to perish and that I, Sancho, should watch the torments of my people for all eternity as they starved and died in many horrible ways.
That is my story. I was Moleké of the Rain People, I am now simply Moleké, the exile of a great people I once served.
It was a night of fog and dew with the shadows dancing favorably in the mist. The elder priests of our tribe told us the day of harvest grew near and that we should prepare our ritual sacrifice to appease the Gods of the Rain. They told me, "Moléké, you must be the one to prepare our ritual meal. Go now into the forest of the Rain and return to us with the food so that the Gods do not torment our harvest."
This was a very important task; if the feast is not performed according to our strictest ancestral traditions, the Gods will unleash their horrible plague upon the country. And it was I, Mõléké, who was given this great responsibility.
However I must tell you now before I continue my sad tale that I did not succeed in my mission. As the dawn of the harvest grew near I was unable to gather enough food from the unforgiving and dangerous forest and I wept for ages as I watched my people starve and die. This is the sad story of Mõ‡éké, the last of the Rain People.
I went into the forest 72 hours before the harvest was to begin. There it was that I found our most prized game, the wandering head of lettuce. The lettuce is the most important part of our ritual salad but also one of the most dangerous to hunt. I, MÕ¦ék¥é, am a skilled hunter and warrior but I have not often tamed wild lettuce.
It was a small herd but a formidable one with many sentries and powerful nodes to alarm the entire herd of any approaching danger. I used my training to the fullest extent but the slightest ruffle of leaves from my approach sent them scattering and klaxons blared across the forest louder than the greatest drums of my people.
I was ashamed that I could not catch the lettuce. It was required for our rituals and the great ceremony and feast but I could not even catch a single head of the wild beast. I hung my head low in disappointment and saw several stems of broccoli growing from the forest floor.
Now broccoli is not a traditional part of the great feast but the Gods would not know the difference. Broccoli, being one of the least intelligent and dim-witted of all the wild beasts in the forest, would not require as precise and delicate hands as lettuce or the wily tomatoes.
In hunting tradition, I, Andrew, very quickly set up a hammock to indicate the ease at which I felt I could capture the animal. I then sped after the broccoli in hot pursuit across the swamp. I pursued a small crowd and finally, after several hours of life's most dangerous game, I corned the wild creatures in the small of a tree. I scooped them into my pouch of bear skin and hollered triumphantly.
However, the Gods were not happy with our sacrifice. The harvest came and went, but everything we touched turned rotten and fell off of the stems. Great globs of beef lay strew across the land rotting as my people stared out and wept. It was a time of great sorrow.
I, Moe, was exiled back into the horrible jungle for failing to appease the Gods. That is where I still live. However, the Gods decreed that I was never to perish and that I, Sancho, should watch the torments of my people for all eternity as they starved and died in many horrible ways.
That is my story. I was Moleké of the Rain People, I am now simply Moleké, the exile of a great people I once served.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Guys you are not going to believe this
Hey team so I was sitting with one of my homies and eating dinner, right? We are eating at a fast food establishment of unknown quality and origins and I didn't order all that much because for lunch I had a coupon for two Quiznos sandwiches for the price of one and gobbled down two large ham and Swisses because they were delicious.
So anyway back to my previous example. We are eating and my homie has a lot of food to eat and he is munching his way along and I am munching my way along munch munch munch munch chomp chomp chomp chomp yum yum yum chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp munch yum chomp yum munch chomp repeat. He gets up and says "I'll be right back" with no indication as to where he might be going or what he might be doing.
I finish my food and sit back satisfied as my arteries slowly harden into a greasy muck and start screaming for mercy. "Ow lawdy," they say, "whay you done gone ate that food?" They say. I ignore my arteries.
15 minutes pass. My friend is still not back. Where the hell did he go?
I am perplexed. I get up, throw my food away, and start looking around. He's not in the main dining area, it's just one room and not hard to scan quickly. I go outside. Nope, not in the parking lot. I go inside and check the bathroom. Both stalls are open, one guy is at a urinal. I do my business, then leave. I check the main dining area again.
He's gone! Vanished into thin fucking air. Oh well, no loss.
So I just went on home. I don't know what happened to him. I think I will call the milk company and get his picture up on their cartons.
So anyway back to my previous example. We are eating and my homie has a lot of food to eat and he is munching his way along and I am munching my way along munch munch munch munch chomp chomp chomp chomp yum yum yum chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp munch yum chomp yum munch chomp repeat. He gets up and says "I'll be right back" with no indication as to where he might be going or what he might be doing.
I finish my food and sit back satisfied as my arteries slowly harden into a greasy muck and start screaming for mercy. "Ow lawdy," they say, "whay you done gone ate that food?" They say. I ignore my arteries.
15 minutes pass. My friend is still not back. Where the hell did he go?
I am perplexed. I get up, throw my food away, and start looking around. He's not in the main dining area, it's just one room and not hard to scan quickly. I go outside. Nope, not in the parking lot. I go inside and check the bathroom. Both stalls are open, one guy is at a urinal. I do my business, then leave. I check the main dining area again.
He's gone! Vanished into thin fucking air. Oh well, no loss.
So I just went on home. I don't know what happened to him. I think I will call the milk company and get his picture up on their cartons.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth, brush your goddamn teeth
Hey team so last night I was minding my own business brushing my teeth like I always do because only rapists and serial killers don't brush their teeth. So anyway I was following my usual routine - I squeezed some toothpaste out on the brush, right, then put the brush gingerly down on the counter while I put the cap back on the toothpaste.
FUCK I DROPPED THE CAP and it goes swirling into the sink and I try to grab it while, at the same time, knocking over my toothbrush and getting a big glob of blue watery muck on the counter. Just fantastic. So I clean all of that up and try again.
I did my normal routine again but this time the cap was much too slippery and FUCK I DROPPED THE CAP and it goes swirling into the sink and I try to grab it but forget I am holding a toothbrush and it drops dramatically and horribly to the floor.
"Why did you do that Cavity Goon?" I asked him
"I was trying to destroy Atlantis" he replied
"Oh no I forgot" and then I turned and yelled to my roommate "hey why do we have a magic bathroom floor that seems really inconvenient maybe like a table or something on your desk"
And God replied "whoops my bad bro"
FUCK I DROPPED THE CAP and it goes swirling into the sink and I try to grab it while, at the same time, knocking over my toothbrush and getting a big glob of blue watery muck on the counter. Just fantastic. So I clean all of that up and try again.
I did my normal routine again but this time the cap was much too slippery and FUCK I DROPPED THE CAP and it goes swirling into the sink and I try to grab it but forget I am holding a toothbrush and it drops dramatically and horribly to the floor.
"Why did you do that Cavity Goon?" I asked him
"I was trying to destroy Atlantis" he replied
"Oh no I forgot" and then I turned and yelled to my roommate "hey why do we have a magic bathroom floor that seems really inconvenient maybe like a table or something on your desk"
And God replied "whoops my bad bro"
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
It is time for the secrets about time travel to come out
Hey team sorry I haven't updated in a week but you must understand I've been busy traveling through time so for me it's been almost 3 years and you would think I would write something during that time but no.
Anyway yes it is time for the secrets to come out. No more conspiracy theories and idiots on youtube giving their suggestions about how it would cause a "paradocks" because you would change things and then they wouldn't be changed in reality but it is or then maybe they'll quote some TV show to show how much they know about time travel. As a certifiable time traveler myself I am the utmost authority on the subject except for J.K. Rowling who very nearly gave away our secrets which is why all the characters had plot convienent amnesia about that stupid hourglass thing because us time travelers gave her a piece of our mind (why we didn't go back and change the book, I'll never know)
But yes back to time travel. We are still not sure what causes it, or, moreinasmuch, why some people have the innate ability to time travel. There is no such thing as a time travel machine, it will never work no matter how many flux capacitors you shove into there. Believe me, we tried and get this - Ikea wouldn't even refund our money.
It's really a pretty pleasant experience to travel through time. It's pretty much exactly like flying in first class on any major airlines, although I suppose that is not a good analogy because you would be too poor to understand it. Think of it this way. It's like you're out working in the field and your boss comes around and sprays you with a hose so you cool down. Wouldn't that just be the best, 1930s era migrant worker?
One of my favorite hobbies as a time traveler is to go back in time and teach people from all periods of time to mix cement and build roads. So far we are doing just okay, but eventually my antics will continue to spawn impassably complex cities filled completely with streets that criss-cross randomly, stop at bizarre locations, or even are up in the air! It'd be like everywhere was Boston.
Most people are wrong about how time travel could impact the present. You can do whatever the hell you want and nothing really gets screwed up. I mean, just last week I took a trip to England in 1066 and punched William of Normandy right in the face. He was so pissed off but I just disappeared back to my present time and nothing had changed other than the fact that both of my parents are now volcanoes.
When you hang around the time-traveler's club, though, they give you Time'b'rite, which is a marvelous spray cleaner that reverses any ill-effects of your fun. It's a simple compound of Lysol and antimatter that really gets the job done. I just sprayed a couple times on my new volcano parents and BOOM the sun exploded. It sometimes takes a couple of tries. So for those of you who were awake last week at 5:32 am I'm sorry I scared you.
The time-traveler's club is a lot like any other really nice exclusive country club. We have our own golf course, but it's pretty pointless since everyone gets a perfect 18 on it every time anyway. We like to take mass trips and show up in strange eras as tourists with ugly pants and fanny packs and cameras taking pictures of all the astounded Greek philosophers and dinosaurs. Unfortunately, this backfired slightly on us when we single-handedly caused the fashion vortex of the 1980s.
We are behind every UFO sighting ever. Bigfoot was simply Andy running across a big, open field and several forested areas with Bigfoot on a leash from when we brought him back as a souvenir (just as a bit of a heads up, don't stay alive longer than 2058 - it's not pretty).
Hmm... I think that about wraps it up. There's really not much more to time travel than that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to end this blog post the same way Bill Nye ended every single one of his shows.
Anyway yes it is time for the secrets to come out. No more conspiracy theories and idiots on youtube giving their suggestions about how it would cause a "paradocks" because you would change things and then they wouldn't be changed in reality but it is or then maybe they'll quote some TV show to show how much they know about time travel. As a certifiable time traveler myself I am the utmost authority on the subject except for J.K. Rowling who very nearly gave away our secrets which is why all the characters had plot convienent amnesia about that stupid hourglass thing because us time travelers gave her a piece of our mind (why we didn't go back and change the book, I'll never know)
But yes back to time travel. We are still not sure what causes it, or, moreinasmuch, why some people have the innate ability to time travel. There is no such thing as a time travel machine, it will never work no matter how many flux capacitors you shove into there. Believe me, we tried and get this - Ikea wouldn't even refund our money.
It's really a pretty pleasant experience to travel through time. It's pretty much exactly like flying in first class on any major airlines, although I suppose that is not a good analogy because you would be too poor to understand it. Think of it this way. It's like you're out working in the field and your boss comes around and sprays you with a hose so you cool down. Wouldn't that just be the best, 1930s era migrant worker?
One of my favorite hobbies as a time traveler is to go back in time and teach people from all periods of time to mix cement and build roads. So far we are doing just okay, but eventually my antics will continue to spawn impassably complex cities filled completely with streets that criss-cross randomly, stop at bizarre locations, or even are up in the air! It'd be like everywhere was Boston.
Most people are wrong about how time travel could impact the present. You can do whatever the hell you want and nothing really gets screwed up. I mean, just last week I took a trip to England in 1066 and punched William of Normandy right in the face. He was so pissed off but I just disappeared back to my present time and nothing had changed other than the fact that both of my parents are now volcanoes.
When you hang around the time-traveler's club, though, they give you Time'b'rite, which is a marvelous spray cleaner that reverses any ill-effects of your fun. It's a simple compound of Lysol and antimatter that really gets the job done. I just sprayed a couple times on my new volcano parents and BOOM the sun exploded. It sometimes takes a couple of tries. So for those of you who were awake last week at 5:32 am I'm sorry I scared you.
The time-traveler's club is a lot like any other really nice exclusive country club. We have our own golf course, but it's pretty pointless since everyone gets a perfect 18 on it every time anyway. We like to take mass trips and show up in strange eras as tourists with ugly pants and fanny packs and cameras taking pictures of all the astounded Greek philosophers and dinosaurs. Unfortunately, this backfired slightly on us when we single-handedly caused the fashion vortex of the 1980s.
We are behind every UFO sighting ever. Bigfoot was simply Andy running across a big, open field and several forested areas with Bigfoot on a leash from when we brought him back as a souvenir (just as a bit of a heads up, don't stay alive longer than 2058 - it's not pretty).
Hmm... I think that about wraps it up. There's really not much more to time travel than that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to end this blog post the same way Bill Nye ended every single one of his shows.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I'm really a kid at heart
"Hold steady men! Ho!" Yelled Captain Sausage aboard the great vessel. They were stopped, finally right where they wanted to be. It would be here that they would rendezvous with the rest of the armada before launching a full scale assault on the taste buds.
The attack would be one of the greatest ever. They had accumulated an unstoppable force of flavor and were floating triumphantly in a sea of gravy so rich that the Captain had to prevent his own men from feasting before the time was ripe.
Finally, over the horizon, they saw them - the great fleet of meats and delicious, rich, juicy flavors were coming to assist them. The metal flier that brought them dipped slightly into the deep, rich gravy and doused the crew in the most beautiful of all rain.
Then, recovering and leaving, the metal flier left and zoomed back to bring even more. But it never returned. Instead of their reassuring metal flier, a white plastic flier came zooming in, dropping in a mess of disgusting, foul, and horrible vegetables.
"PIRATES!" Yelled Captain Sausage, "Evasive action! Abort! Abort!" The metal flier heard them and came back, working frantically to move the meat to higher ground while the rest of the meat scrambled helplessly with the gravy acting as a hindrance now, rather than a blessing.
The vegetables were coming, great white cauliflower barreling down on the fleet with undeniable force and broccoli, its green skull and crossbones flag flying high, raining down on the meat with a barrage of seed cannonballs.
Captain Sausage knew it was all over. Before they knew it, it was all over.
"We're touching!" He yelled, "WE'RE TOUCHING!"
The attack would be one of the greatest ever. They had accumulated an unstoppable force of flavor and were floating triumphantly in a sea of gravy so rich that the Captain had to prevent his own men from feasting before the time was ripe.
Finally, over the horizon, they saw them - the great fleet of meats and delicious, rich, juicy flavors were coming to assist them. The metal flier that brought them dipped slightly into the deep, rich gravy and doused the crew in the most beautiful of all rain.
Then, recovering and leaving, the metal flier left and zoomed back to bring even more. But it never returned. Instead of their reassuring metal flier, a white plastic flier came zooming in, dropping in a mess of disgusting, foul, and horrible vegetables.
"PIRATES!" Yelled Captain Sausage, "Evasive action! Abort! Abort!" The metal flier heard them and came back, working frantically to move the meat to higher ground while the rest of the meat scrambled helplessly with the gravy acting as a hindrance now, rather than a blessing.
The vegetables were coming, great white cauliflower barreling down on the fleet with undeniable force and broccoli, its green skull and crossbones flag flying high, raining down on the meat with a barrage of seed cannonballs.
Captain Sausage knew it was all over. Before they knew it, it was all over.
"We're touching!" He yelled, "WE'RE TOUCHING!"
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Hey Team!
Hey team I have been asked several times why I preface almost everything I say with "hey team" and I suppose it is time I give a full and honest answer. In short, of course, it is because I feel that everyone is on my team and that we can all get along. Everyone is my teammate through thick and thin rough and smooth hot and cold night and day.
I got this philosophy from my friend and teammate Benjamin Franklin who would famously write "Four score and seven years ago everyone is innocent until proven guilty as long as we name this country after me" and of course most of his speech never really caught on but that middle part became a crucial section of the Boy Scout Pledge. I took this philosophy and decided that everyone is my teammate until proven guilty of some heinous most notably claiming to not be on my team which is pretty much the only offense that will get you booted since loyalty is a pretty big thing with me (the only other offense being not bringing your assigned snack to practices, which is also punishable by death).
This of course leads me to the next big benefit I gain from having everyone on my team. I can pad my resume to hell and back and if I ever go to a job interview I can say "Hey bro I played soccer with you in 10th grade" and he won't remember because he was stoned off his ass all through 10th grade and also how would he remember me it's foolproof.
Then he would reply with something like "I never played soccer in high school and also you're like 40 years older than me" and then I would start crying and he would apologize and console me.
We would then go back to my resume and his eyes would get very large when he noticed that I was best friends with not only Napoleon Bonaparte, William Shakespeare, Montel Williams, James Tiberius Kirk, and the Velociraptor from Jurassic Park, but I knew all of their nicknames ("The French Fury", "Captain PAIN", "Dark Chocolate Nightmare", "Blast from the Past", and "Velociraptor", respectively) and we were voted as the best water polo team on Earth from 1230-1233, and I still have the trophy on my desk to prove it.
Also being on everyone's team is a great way to pick up chicks in the park. I'll just go up to them and mention how we played little league together and remember how silly it was when I missed all the pitches and the coaches eventually had to give me a tee to hit from and I was embarrassed but your mom brought Mondos and we laughed and you might have even been my first crush I can't remember. Then you look at me and smile and wag your tail and wonder why I shake my head and ask myself why I look for girls at the dog park.
People are so much friendlier when you simply pretend that they are your teammates. It is as if summer would never end and I got to enjoy all the great sports out in fields with grass stains and happiness blooming out of everyone and we would never do drills because drills are for losers and with a team this size and with this variety of talent we are unstoppable.
Also since everyone is on my team it is very easy for me to choose the winning side in a competition. You can call me a fair-weather fan if you like, but I'd prefer to call myself a fair-weather player. I'm on the team too!
Now if you excuse me I have to go and party it up with my teammates and we will have a great time and it will be full of brotherhood.
I got this philosophy from my friend and teammate Benjamin Franklin who would famously write "Four score and seven years ago everyone is innocent until proven guilty as long as we name this country after me" and of course most of his speech never really caught on but that middle part became a crucial section of the Boy Scout Pledge. I took this philosophy and decided that everyone is my teammate until proven guilty of some heinous most notably claiming to not be on my team which is pretty much the only offense that will get you booted since loyalty is a pretty big thing with me (the only other offense being not bringing your assigned snack to practices, which is also punishable by death).
This of course leads me to the next big benefit I gain from having everyone on my team. I can pad my resume to hell and back and if I ever go to a job interview I can say "Hey bro I played soccer with you in 10th grade" and he won't remember because he was stoned off his ass all through 10th grade and also how would he remember me it's foolproof.
Then he would reply with something like "I never played soccer in high school and also you're like 40 years older than me" and then I would start crying and he would apologize and console me.
We would then go back to my resume and his eyes would get very large when he noticed that I was best friends with not only Napoleon Bonaparte, William Shakespeare, Montel Williams, James Tiberius Kirk, and the Velociraptor from Jurassic Park, but I knew all of their nicknames ("The French Fury", "Captain PAIN", "Dark Chocolate Nightmare", "Blast from the Past", and "Velociraptor", respectively) and we were voted as the best water polo team on Earth from 1230-1233, and I still have the trophy on my desk to prove it.
Also being on everyone's team is a great way to pick up chicks in the park. I'll just go up to them and mention how we played little league together and remember how silly it was when I missed all the pitches and the coaches eventually had to give me a tee to hit from and I was embarrassed but your mom brought Mondos and we laughed and you might have even been my first crush I can't remember. Then you look at me and smile and wag your tail and wonder why I shake my head and ask myself why I look for girls at the dog park.
People are so much friendlier when you simply pretend that they are your teammates. It is as if summer would never end and I got to enjoy all the great sports out in fields with grass stains and happiness blooming out of everyone and we would never do drills because drills are for losers and with a team this size and with this variety of talent we are unstoppable.
Also since everyone is on my team it is very easy for me to choose the winning side in a competition. You can call me a fair-weather fan if you like, but I'd prefer to call myself a fair-weather player. I'm on the team too!
Now if you excuse me I have to go and party it up with my teammates and we will have a great time and it will be full of brotherhood.
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