My Day

So apparently some of yall aren't happy with me because I don't write about what happens to me during the course of my day. I would say yall can go screw a nut onto a bolt, but instead I will, for this one time, write about my day, or days, or however far back I want to write about. Cause it is up to me. So here you go. Hope you enjoy it. Cause it will never happen again. Unless I get some good responses. So after this post the ball is in yalls court. Read.

So for the past few days I have been getting the Center ready for a banquet for a sorority to use. I have also been made to feel like shit several times; sometimes I deserved it, sometimes not. I have been thinking it over and I have come to the conclusion that the only way to keep from feeling like a pile of elephant crap is to never talk to a female of the human race again. Or her dad. Cause their dad's aren't any better. They are pretty good at making you feel like the lowest form of scum that can be found on eight day old cheese that has been left in yogurt for a month after being sneezed on by a sick 4 year old and left in a warm, moist place with soft music playing in the background. I have also decided to never joke about anything ever again because all it brings is pain and death and suffering and disease and famine and shittalitis* and many more bad things. Plus my words continuously get misconstrued, twisted around, and used against me time and again. So maybe it would be best if I just never talked again. Or ever left my room. Actually, I was told that if I drove my truck off a cliff the only reason people would be sad is because it would be a waste of a perfectly good truck. Which is true, it is a good truck, but I mean, come on, have a heart people, I would also have my CD's in there.

But anyway, that is my past few days. Hope yall are happy now. Cause I sure as hell ain't. I need a beer, but its too damn far away from here. Laters.

*This is when someone is made to feel like a pile of shit on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. It sucks.