I've written about my car before, but this may be the last time. For those of you who haven't been paying attention to those times, it's a 1985 Chevy Blazer- older than me (for those of you who are good at math, you can probably guess my age- somewhere between 16 and 24.  Don't worry, I'm not jail bait for those who are interested.)

My car has various names- Old Sparky, or The Death Trap, and while nobody has died riding in it yet, I wouldn't say that it's not a possibility.  I mean, when the passenger door lock was broken and wouldn't let the door open would probably cause problems if there was like, I don't know, a fire or something and my passenger(s) couldn't escape.  But it didn't and that's what counts.

This could happen too.

Earlier this week it decided to take another crap on me, this time my ignition.  Unless I somehow figure out how to hot-wire it, I won't be going anywhere.  And since I'm going off to college at the end of the summer, this would be bad.  Being three hours away, it would suck being broken down in the middle of the mountains trying to get home (not that coming home to visit my mom interests me.)  So my mom and grandpa want me to get a new car.  But I love my car too much!

My car is like my friend, who I would also be leaving behind when I go off to college.  My friend and my car are pretty much exactly alike.  So it blows hot air and makes loud noises constantly, and has a tendency to just give up whenever, but my car has just as much sentimental value too.  It's like getting a new, quiet, clean running, fuel efficient, better looking (and probably Asian) friend that won't cost me a bunch of money in the future.  But it would just seem so weird getting to know someone new.  Oh ya, and you have to pay a shit ton for a good car.  Go figure.

The last installment (for now) of Harry Potter is coming out soon, and while I pirate the previous movies, the biggest question on everybody's minds is who's hotter, Luna Lovegood or Hermiony Granger.  But my vote is for this girl.


Personally I liked it when Emma Watson was still flat, but my preferences change depending on the day. Speaking of flat girls, wouldn't you be suspicious when you see a flat chest under without a face visible? That could be anybody. Like this guy.

To be honest, brown facial hair doesn't work with blonde hair.

I randomly looked through the spam folder in my email today, and among the offers for penis and breast enlargement, as well as a "$1000 Victoria's Secret Wardrobe Makeover," (Which to be honest, I think I would look stunning in, with lingerie replacing all of my regular clothing) I noticed some weird offers. 

Like a Walmart gift card.  Why Walmart?  Why me?  I know I'm pasty white, semi-low income, and am prone to spout horrible generalizations.  But how do the people Emailing me know this?  Is it because I say horrible self-incriminating statements on my blog like this?  Probably, but that doesn't mean that I have shopped or ever will shop at Walmart.  Not saying that I've never shopped there, but only to support our local Hispanic population- they have mouths to feed too.

Of course I didn't take the offer.  I mean really, why do I need a stupid gift card if they keep rolling back their prices?  Shouldn't they be free by now?

But what about all the other offers in my inbox?  What am I missing out on when I don't click on them?  Some Indian king really could have just died and left me a huge inheritance.  I could get a larger package or even a bigger rack (obviously not both, that would just look silly.) 

via

Heck, I might be the talk of the town on all these dating cites and Facebook!  I wouldn't say I'm one of the most popular people on the internet, but I'm up there with the Zuckerburgs and the uh... Al Gores.  I mean, he invented it, and I'm making it a better place.  I'm like his landscaper or something.  Except unlike a real landscaper I'm not Hispanic and I only get down and dirty in the virtual world.  Which is where it counts.  Real landscapers are going to be replaced by robots anyways.

Putting things inside of other things.  It all started with a "yo" and a "dawg."  But what does horrible spelling and animals have to do with the internet?  Just about everything.

Before Xzibit started putting cars inside other cars for the reason of being able to "drive while you drive," people were putting things in other things.  MC Escher- (most likely another musician, thus the MC), probable suffered from fevered dreams of things being combined in such ways that they fit perfectly.

I dreamed about a hand... drawing another hand, which was in turn drawing the first hand.  Man, I have to stop taking acid before bed...

A person inside of a person (that's called sex.)  A black person inside a KFC.  A Troll inside of a Cave.  All of these things are great, but Xzhibit showed us the joy of being able to do something while you do something else as well.



Then along came Inception.  Before, people were limited by size- you couldn't just go putting anything in anything.  Not everything defies the laws of physics like a women's purse or a tiny car full of Mexicans.  But in a dream, you can do anything, and as they say, "don't be afraid to dream bigger."

Or even dream deeper.  I don't know about you, but I find it hard to sleep at night.  But If I have time for one dream, that must mean I have enough time to dream unlimited dreams, right?  Would I want to exhaust my entire imagination's dream capacity in one night?  No, because then all the post ideas that come to me in my dreams would just go down the drain. 

Back in the real world, Inception and Xzhibit vie for superiority.  What's going in what?  Who goes where?  Who gets out or wakes up first?  Can you really drive while you drive?  If you have sex with someone who is pregnant and their baby is female, could you impregnate as well?  Nobody knows.

Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...

This chapter of the Troll Bible is the Book of Numbers.   Which luckily has nothing to do with math, which is good, or else I might have to say bad things about it.

So Moses and his followers are sick of running around the desert, so they decide to start heading towards the promised land of, milk, honey, rainbows, and ponies.  Except that people are living there.  People who don't share the same religious beliefs.  While the Bible says to respect your neighbor or something, that doesn't count if they are living on top of your holy land, or even more if they are heathens who worship false gods..  So they make an army and decide to go and kill them all.

However their recon teams were horrible and probably intoxicated, and along with the milk and honey, they said they also saw giants.  Which made them quake in their sacrificed-goat-skin boots.  Refusing to fight to death for their religion which also made them wander the desert for 40 years, smites them.  After that, they aren't even let into the promised land, so they settle for a slightly less rainbow-y area.