skiing is like heroine. You want to stop, but you don't until its too late.

Dan....I'm moved. I'm not talking like from one couch to another moved, I'm talking like airplane changing vectors moved.

I never bruise. It really sucks, because I can be in the worst pain I've ever been in, and I'll have nothing to show people. Heck, I'd rather die than not have bruises. Then people would feel bad for me and make themselves look like idiots crying for someone they won't really miss all that much. The reason I tell you this is because I hit the slopes pretty freaking hard (which I didn't realize until the day after) and was in huge amounts of pain with nothing to show for it.

I've decided to rant against cancer. WHY WOULD YOU cancer? I'm alright if you pick on guys who deserve it and don't deserve the media they get for it, but LITTLE KIDS? What's wrong with your head? Did your parents treat you wrong when you were a kid, so you're determined to screw everyone Else's childhood up? My other problem with you is you're a frickin' attention hog. We have diseases like TB and MS and polio (not as much anymore) that kill MILLIONS (that's seven digits kids) of people every year. You kill a couple fat Americans every year and steal the show. I'd say its quality over quantity, but then I'd be accused of racism. All I know is that this is not going to end well. If I have to, I'll take you out on the streets in a one on one. You can bring your baseball bat and little gang if you want, but I'll mess you up. I'll beat you six ways from Sunday AND I'll screw up old sayings while I do it. Hows that sound? You want a piece of this? (PS cancer, if you DO want a piece of this, please, give me cancer anywhere but my colon and testicles. I know its selfish...but please).

Yesterday I was sick. Whenever I'm sick, I think about death. I thought about it, and I don't even want to go to my funeral. All I would do is sit and watch phonies have crying competitions when they're really only thinking about who gets my xbox 360 and SNES. Its too bad they don't read your will until AFTER the funeral. I'm sure I could weed out a good fifty or sixty people and send them home disappointed. It would be my way of doing what I do best but FROM THE GRAVE!

I've also been thinking about girls. How come they make up half the population of the planet, but all of them combined don't have the reasoning I have in my left pinkie finger? Is my awful luck with them karma for treating them so badly earlier in my life? Is there someone out there who will love me for how broken and twisted I really am? Or should I just develop schizophrenia and MAKE a girl who loves me for who I am? I think I'm onto something.