Well hey there sailor.

Just got back in town.

Taking some time to clear my head.

I'm not shutting this down and I will be writing later.

Don't do anything the good lord wouldn't do.

I love the internet.

Thinking about shutting this place down.

Comment below if you have anything against that.

Don't judge me monkey.

Ever since class let out at Riddle I've noticed the hits on this thing go basically through the floor. I contemplated stopping writing for this reason, but then I realized that stats wasn't why I started doing this in the first place. I started this stupid thing so that I could get shit outta my head and put it down somewhere. This continues to be a decent out for me to place this shit, so even if no one at all reads it, I'll still write. SO WHAT'S UP WITH YOU? OH NOTHING WITH ME, I'm DOING FINE, LIKE SKIPPY PEANUT BUTTER. Yeah, don't hate me because that analogy made no sense. I'm not the one thinking about peanut butter, it's you. Why is peanut butter so much better on toast if you put regular butter on first and then peanut butter on it after. I assume it's the ridiculous amount of heart-stopping calories it adds to it. I haven't done that since I was probably in junior high, but for some reason it sprang to the forefront of my mind. I really have to urinate. But I think I'll hold it for a while. I'll bet in your entire life you've never been as bored as me. Perfect example, if for some reason you didn't read the previous bit, I'm holding my piss because it's more exciting than not holding it. That's pretty fucking sad if you ask me. And I'd conveniently be sad about it if it wasn't for the fact that I'm so fucking bored. McGriddle me this, if you had a square peg and a round hole, wouldn't you just find something better to do? Everyone's always trying to pound that shit it. I really don't get it. Personally, I'd take the third option. What is the third option you ask me? Shit, I don't know. But it's probably something between Charles Barkley and the chick that played the child emperor in the Neverending Story. I'm not gonna lie she was pretty hot when I was a little kid. I did a fair bit of internet stalking on her recently just out of curiosity and boredom. Apparently she became a dancer or something. Or maybe a figureskater. I don't really remember right at this moment, but the point is she went into tutu's instead of porn. Which was rather depressing. Well I guess you have to do what makes you happy, even if it isn't porn. Goddamn it. Ok, I seriously need to drain the dragon. It's gotten to the point where I can't even concentrate on what I'm writing seriously shit I gotta pee brb... Haha, I love taking a leak and then flushing so it hits the bottom right when I finish. As I type that I feel that what I just wrote is far too much information. That may be true, but don't sit there and fucking lie to yourself saying shit like "that game isn't fun at all". Because you aaaaand your Aunt Lucy think it's fucking fun as shit. I asked her, and presented with the options of playing the Toilet Timing game or beating Ted Kennedy with a sack full of doorknobs Aunt Lucy totally went for the TT game. From now on if I say TT game, you better fucking understand where I'm coming from. Or else me and your Aunt Lucy are gonna have to have a talk with your school councilor. Why are you always showing up to class late? Stop pulling the wings off of flies. Jesus Christ what is that growth in your pubic area? You know, questions like that. And you wouldn't like that, or for me to give your Aunt a sack full of doorknobs. That's pretty much the last choice. I once asked Harry Truman if he had a choice between the Atomic Bomb and Aunt Lucy with a sack full of doorknobs what horror he'd unleash on the world. Well, I think we all know what happened with that one. Seriously, I was like, "Harry, buddy, on one hand, we've got totally nuclear destruction and the eventual creation of every fucked up sexual fetish that will be ever known to man. Plus extra arms and shit. And on the other hand, we've got Lucy. And I'm not talking just Lucy, I'm talking Lucy with a huge burlap sack full of Home Depot's choicest brass doorknobs. I mean the ones that if you windowshopped for a few months you'd choose to put on your grandmothers 17th century Victorian house. Ones that if you turned them to enter a portal into a house of gathering you'd say, damn the heft and turnage of that doorknob was just what I'd expect out of a house of this magnitude. Do you see where this is going Harry?" Wow. Kind of went off on that one. But obviously President Truman had no choice. He dropped not only one but TWO bombs on Japan. This was far more humane than Lucy with the doorknobs. That shit would've been fucking insane. Can you imagine that woman running around fucking lashing out against people like they owed her money with a sack full of Lowes finest? Shit son, me neither. I call that my nightmares. I have pizza in my refridgerator right now. Some may see that as an asset. I'm not gonna lie, I don't. Right now I'm full as all get-out. I'm not completely sure if that's a hyphenated word. Shit, I'm not even sure if that's how you spell hyphenated. If it's spelled correctly though, it's because I had the quasi-good sense to spellcheck this shiat after I wrote it. It's pretty windy out right now. I'm supposed to fly tomorrow around one in the afternoon, but it's also supposed to be cloudy and shitty all day. So odds are I'm not flying tomorrow. Also not gonna lie, I've been drinking quite a bit. I'm a pilot, what can I say. I'm kind of banking on the fact that I wont be flying tomorrow. If the weatherman is wrong, I'm going to be one hungover pilot tomorrow afternoon. Granted I'm still completely legal, because I can technically drink for another 2 hours or so and still be legal. Doesn't that make you feel nice and safe when you're flying. Well fuck you, you don't have to be under this pressure. All you have to do is sit in the back and be all like "I'd like some peanuts please, can I have another Coke? Where's the bathroom, get me a pillow." Well fuck you. You don't know what it's like. If pilots didn't drink, there'd be a shitload more accidents, because we'd have no way to deal with all the shit... um... we have to deal with. Well, somehow we'll make it. Because that's what we do. It's just how we do.

I'm gonna go pick my nose for a while. Enjoy your time here.

No.

See: Above.

Tiny flickers in the night

G'day peoples.

I say peoples, because I do not know a good deal of you, but you know me. That's alright I guess.

Today was a damn good day. I know I haven't written anything in this thing for quite a few days, but that's just me. I was enjoying my days after graduation. For 3 days straight I did nothing but wake up after 12 in the afternoon, screw around and play videogames, and drink my ass of at night. And then I'd wake up the next day and do it all again. At times I feel like I missed out on the normal college life you're supposed to have, so I think I figured I'd live it for a few days. Anyways, after 3 days I got bored of it and now here I stand. I got back on my strict diet, and my knee is healing up well. It feels decently strong and I think in the next week or two I might even begin to start training on it again. I just don't want to come back too soon as I've already made that mistake once.

I picked up a new instructor for my multi-engine rating so hopefully I'll be out of here in 3-4 weeks. I really can't wait to get home and see everyone that I've been missing at least since my christmas break. I'm not sure who's going to be home or what kind of times we'll have this summer, but I'm sure it'll be fun and something to remember. Which is always the case up in NH.

Tonight kicked all kinds of ass. We went out to a Japanese steakhouse that I hadn't been to before. It was pretty standard, but standard for Japanese steakhouses around here is damn good. The great thing about the place was that they also had a sushi menu you could order off of so I got Japanese steakhouse food and some good sushi on the side, polished off by a couple Japanese beers. I'm telling you, I cannot wait for my trip to Japan in the late summer.

Oh yeah, if I didn't say anything about it, I'm going to Japan sometime in August or September. I expect it to be full of many adventures, and I will be taking many pictures. I'm sure I'll write a huge post about it when I get home. Or, at the least, a really small posting telling everyone to fuck off or something, as is my style.

As for the rest of the night tonight, once again we ended up at Robbie's Pub. I didn't know we were going there so I didn't get a chance to put up my away message that said I was there with a link to Robbie's website. That is unfortunate because usually when I put that up I get a few free beers.

Some Englishman started talking shit to me there tonight, saying that I was goddamn Canadian or some shit. I'd have none of that so I started to explain to him the amount of trouble he'd be in if we went outside with this issue. Eventually, as all things end up being with me, we became some sort of friends. He was kind of still a dick but at least I didn't have to turn some appendage of his body into a jigsaw puzzle piece.

That's the end of my story of the day. Again, I apologize about the lack of updates now that I said I'm gonna do this shit daily, but to be honest, it hasn't been high on my priority list. Rather recently I've become 100% completely single and I'm just trying to have a bunch of fun down here in Daytona before I leave. So you'll have to excuse me if I don't see this internet piece of crap as a top priority.

Peace out, A-town. Focker out. All the shit I say at the end of posts. Baleedat.

Wet Sand

Dave bought an Xbox 360.

This does not bode well for you, dear readers.

I am (unfortunately?) drunk again.

I'm going to play xbox. Dear god is it addicting. It's amazing.

P.S. I graduated.

P.P.S. Bye. I'm going to play xbox and drink.

One direction. Not Left.

I remember back when I was in 3rd grade the teacher would make us write in a journal. Most of the time I spent it complaining that I couldn't think of anything to write. So in order to make up my mandatory 2 pages of writing, I was forced to write "I must write" until I filled it up.

Well I'm not in 3rd grade anymore and y'all can go fuck yourselves.

Pull the other one.

I'm copping out and not writing tonight. Instead I present:

The sickest flying knee I've ever seen.



Boomshakalaka!

As they say on NBA Jam.

Motorcycle Competition

I've been done with college for 8 and a half hours now. And already I've never been so bored in my entire life.

My knee is still messed up, so I can't train.

I'm between flight courses so I can't fly.

I don't have a job.

This is going to be a tough month.

I did find my drinking hat though.



Rolling thunder rules.

So I got that going for me.

Choppa duel.

Ok, so I had a randomly fucked up dream last night and I have to write it down here before I forget it. So I was driving around in some random city in my truck. It appeared that I had a half tank of gas. (I remember odd details in my dreams.) Later this ended up disappointing me greatly as I drove to campus and only had around .0001234 of a tank of gas. So the promised .5 by my dream was way off. Anyways, driving around in some city. For some reason I think it reminded me of Montreal. I make a U-turn and head back towards a parking garage that I had seen. I drive all the way up to almost the top and park. I get out and for some reason the building that I'm going to has a skyway access at the roof of the parking garage. So I walk up there in my green hoodie (again random detail I retained). Upon reaching the top this hobo goes running by me yelling, and these two mobster looking guys are running after him. I kind of just watch as they corner him at the edge of the parking garage. They talk for a bit and then the mobsters push the hobo off the edge. He goes screaming off the edge and splat. Right after they look down at the splat they turn around and look at me. That's right when I realized that I probably shouldn't have seen that, and I could be in quite some trouble. Both of them pull out guns and start coming after me. So I turn around and run off the fucking roof of the parking garage. I start doing shit I wouldn't never remotely have the nuts to do in real life. I'm talking Jet Li shit, dropping off of ledges to catch other ledges underneath it. I drop down a few levels and swing into the parking garage. And suddenly everything fucking turns into something out of Tron. I don't understand it, because everyone else looks like the people in Tron, and I'm still in regular clothes. Suddenly I realize the mob guys are after me (appropriately dressed in red Tron getups) and I run away into some elevator and go down. For some reason I find some sort of Tron shotgun in the elevator. Sweet, says I. I like shotguns. Especially when bad people are chasing me. I get off the elevator and run out trying to find somewhere to get out or even possibly my truck, if it still exists. All of a sudden one of those annoying blue programs from Tron starts annoying me and getting in my face. He wont let me by, so I just turn around and put the shotgun in his face and pull the trigger. Nothing goddamn happens. I guess for some reason it only works on red people, which I had already dispatched a few of. This pissed me off because he continued to be annoying and I couldn't really do anything about it. I worked my way down out of the parking garage turned psycho Tron research facility whatever and as I run out onto the street I woke up.

I know exactly what you're thinking. That's totally fucked up, Tucker doesn't even own a green hoodie.

My thoughts exactly.

Maybe it's an omen that I should buy one.

Just another way to survive.

So I said I was going to write a post last night, but I guess I lied. I kind of blacked out. I woke up this morning at the way too early hour of 7AM. Which is usually the case when I black out. I stumbled around my apartment trying to find my toothbrush for some reason. I came to the realization that I was, in fact, still quite drunk. So I played a little X-Box and then went back to bed. Long story short, I'm still wearing my PJ's from the night before. I pretty much love Sundays. Kind of like how birds love birdbaths. If I could, I'd perch on the side of Sunday, get some of it on me, and then shake violently. I think that was more than a little odd. I'll let it slide if you do. So it's T minus one week until graduation. That'll be interesting. I'm actually a little pissed off at the timing. There's some sort of reception being put on by the Alumni group or whatever the fuck it is. Normally I wouldn't care, but the thing is my Grandmother and Mother are coming over a day early now to go to it. Once again, normally I wouldn't care. But this particular Thursday is special because it's fucking thirsty Thursday at the Daytona Cubs baseball game. I don't remember if I've written about these events here before. But basically it consists of me purchasing beers that are far too large for far too little money. After consuming as much of said beers as I can I then proceed to shell and eat as many peanuts as I can. All the while not caring at all what is going on in the game and sometimes taking time out of my busy beer/peanut schedule to yell something at the opposing team. Anyways, I can't really describe how amazing this is. So I have a choice to make. Do I go get my beer/peanut on for 3 hours until I'm righteously sloshed, and then go to a college alumni reception with my grandmother and mother... or do I... haha, fuck it. Like I actually have two choices. Well, I hope my family isn't too pissed off. But I'll be damned if I'm missing my thirsty Thursday baseball game. On a different topic, the new Red Hot Chili Peppers album just got leaked on the internet. It's definitely worth stealing. I've given it one or two listens so far and I like it. I was going to post a picture of my newly received commercial pilot license, but I think if I do the terrorists win or something. I'm going to go set something on fire.

Focker out.