Thanksgiving
There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless — boys and women, and I am neither one.
There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless — boys and women, and I am neither one.
raddidge
raddidge celebrates her birthday today. She's just like my sister in that her birthday falls on Thanksgiving every couple of years. That's where the resemblance ends.
thankful?
I am thankful for the fact that raddidge still loves me after all this time. I am thankful for my shopteacher's handful of friends in my life. I am thankful that Spot is my little girl. Now regarding my job and money, that's not being thankful but grateful partly because of my pessimistic nature but also because I don't consider them as being within my control.
In Yer Dreams
Condemned to Hell. Fortunately Hell isn't all that bad or my particular punishment wasn't particularly egregious. I was cursed to be Cobra Commander, locked in furious combat with BATS, Destro and the twins Tomax and Xamot. Each time I was killed, I'd magically regenerate or repop somewhere to begin the sisyphean task all over again.
One time, I took a particularly vicious blow which basically left me like main character in Johnny Got His Gun. Fortunately my face wasn't demolished so I could communicate and observe my surroundings. Salvation seemed to be embodied by a large breasted woman who was wearing this Flashdance sweatshirt with the collar cut out and short sleeves. Her tits were hanging out the side and bobbling from underneath the hem. Every now and again I saw nipple and realized I needed to get some so I could reform my damaged body.
Unfortunately it was hard to find someone to carry my useless remains so I could pursue my quarry. The dream ended with a committee of the top brass of Cobra discussing my situation and if they should do anything for me.
