So I recieved my commercial pilot license on Friday.
Not writing in this shite tonight. Here's a video for your efforts.
So tomorrow is my last day of school for possibly the rest of my life. It hasn't really hit me yet, even as I say it. I'm not sure if it's because I don't care, or if I don't really realize what it means yet. I've got my check with an FAA examiner for my commercial license on Friday. I hope that goes just ducky. In about a week I'll be completely done with finals and everything. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with myself after that. I have to stay here and crank out my multi-engine flight course, but after that... I seriously don't know.
So I forgot I have to write in this every day now. That's a lot of pressure don't you think? Especially on someone like me. I'm fragile like an egg. Or something. My mom had these Christmas eggs that she used to hang on the top of the tree. They were painted by hand and all special. They were on the top of the tree so my brother and I wouldn't break them. And then I found five dollars.
Holy shitknuckles. It's only Monday and I kind of hope this week would die. Tomorrow is my Armageddon day. Three presentations, a test, and a research paper due. Yeah, and me being me I left almost all of this shit until tonight to do. I've got 7 pages written on my research paper that's supposed to be 15. So I got that going for me.
Knock knock.
Chuck Norris has no sense of humor. Your people's blind admoration for his failed 15 extra minutes of fame has been lost on him. He doesn't even think it's funny.
Not really sure the point of this post. I kind of feel obligated to write tonight for some reason. Did you ever see that movie with Tim Allen when he had a kid in the jungle and then made him come to the city or some shit? I don't exactly remember what happened, but whenever I think of the word obligated it springs to mind. I think I slept somewhere around four seconds last night. I've been doing a cubic buttload of crap so that I can leave this school and not come back. I have so much to do in the next 5 days that I think I might go insane. And what's the point of having a degree if you're clinically insane. Speaking of insane, remember at the end of that batman movie when Jim Carrey is all "I know who batman is" and then they say, "holy crap, who's batman?" and he's all, "I'm batman." Yeah, me neither. That was a pretty crappy story. Most movies nowadays seem to be crappy stories anyways, I mean, not like me telling you about Jim Carrey in batman, because that was a pretty crappy story. I mean really crappy stories. Normally I'd dig deep down and pull out a classy poop-themed joke for this occasion, but I'll hold off. I really wish I had some apple juice right now. For some reason when I'm really really tired I crave apple juice. I can't explain it. But if I could, would you really want me to? Didn't think so. Speaking of thinking, I'm having troubles doing so right now. Tired. What was I talking about? Apple juice. Mmmmm, good stuff. Lots of sugar though. Sugar is not good for you. It'll rot your teeth and impregnate your 11 year old niece. Or so I'm told. I think I saw that on Judge Judy the other day. Man that bitch is hardcore. If I was in her courtroom though I'd probably punch her in the throat. She's fucking annoying. There you are, on national television, trying to make your case against your cheating whore girlfriend or whatever is the theme of the day on JJ (I call it JJ because I'm hardcore like that), and the next thing you know, the bitch is all cutting you off saying "you're lying to me! Better not be lying to me!" And then she always looks over to that guy who pretends he's a police officer and they share this special moment where they laugh and are thinking to themselves "god we're so much better than everyone in this room." And normally they'd be right, but unfortunately on this day I would be in the courtroom. After I exploded the podium I was standing behind to splinters with the giant boner I just popped thinking about slugging JJ in the throat, I'd run over and take the guard's walkie talkie, or plastic gun or whatever he has on him, and proceed to beat him senseless with it. Then while the entire room was silent after what I just did to that guy, I'd slowly turn to Judge Judy and let go a thunderous right hand right to her adams apple. And as she lay coughing in her crappy black robes of shittyness, I'd calmly explain to her to never interrupt me again. Yeah. Wow. Kind of went off there. If my shrink from elementary school is reading this. That's a joke. Please don't send me back to that room where they make me do puzzles, and then somehow that translates into how many pills I should take every morning before I go to the bus stop. That was not cool. I think this is about the time where people begin to complain about my lack of paragraphs. Fuck paragraphs. Over pompus pieces of doggie crap. Who uses them anyways. They're like question marks. As many of you know, I despise question marks. Oooh, look at me, I'm hooked at the top and I relay a feeling of inquisition in the sentence. Puhleez. Question marks are the kind of guy I'd roll up on in a party and say, "excuse me, hold my beer while I fuck your girlfriend." And he'd probably do it. Because that's how fucking lame question marks are. And if he even thought about fighting back, Judge Judy throat punch, the sequal. Coming soon from me productions, limited release straight on his face. I mean... throat. I've got kind of a violent streak going in this one. Let's segway to something else. God damn I cannot write the word segway and not want a segway. I saw that new movie Benchwarmers last weekend, and the guy definitely had a segway. If I had a segway, I'd never walk anywhere again. And if people didn't have ramps and shit for me to segway up, I'd sue them for discrimination. Hell, this is America. If I can't sue people for not letting me be a lazy sack of shit, what has this country come to? I'll tell you what it's come to. On second thought, I'd rather talk about toothpaste. I have a serious question for my readership, why are there so many different fucking kinds of toothpaste? And if there's really a need for these kinds that do all these different things, why can't you just make one that does all of them. Seriously. It's fucking toothpaste. It's not like we need to set up the Manhattan Project to determine how to create a single kind of toothpaste so I don't have to sit in Wal-Mart for 20 minutes deciding if I would rather not have a fuckload of cavities or if I'd rather have white teeth. I'm not really sure I care either way, but if I could have both I think that'd be pretty pimp. I should wrap this up. As you can tell I need some goddamn sleep. And you need to get your life together.
Shit got busy again. Hence the lack of postage in the last week.
So, I have a 15 page paper due for my Airport Managment class in 36 hours. If I don't write this godforsaken waste of time I don't graduate. Yet I can't seem to find the motivation to do it. The air conditioning is broken in my apartment again. That's always a plus. Except not at all. I'm pretty sure there was a leak of some sort in the A/C box in my laundry room. It was making a generally scary hissing sound and there was no cold air coming out the vent into my room. I put 2 and 2 together, got five, and shut off the A/C. Dave said he was going to call the people we rent from tomorrow so they can fix it. That's a good thing, cause I'm lazy and I hate talking to people on the phone. It's not all that bad though. It rained yesterday for the first time in probably 2 months. There was thunder and everything, I was quite impressed by it. Thunderstorms down here are really the only reason for Florida to exist. Other than that it's just a huge golf course for old people and a trailer park for white trash.
Two posts in one day? Whatever will you people do?
They finally did a video of my favorite song from the new album.
