Another debaucherous halloween. For those of you who don't know already, I pulled a rope a dope and cancelled my previous costume and totally went as Kate. What was even more great about it was that right when I walked in, Kate wanted to take a picture, not knowing what I was dressed as. The look on her face was priceless when she finally realized. This will forever be known as "The Halloween that Kate got Owned".

That, ladies and gentleman, is called baiting. Now all of you sit back and enjoy the show because it is now Kate's turn in the eternal back and forth that is Kate and Bizzles friendship. She's like an angry porpoise. A horny, angry porpoise.
You might not know the reference but porpoises are very vicious creatures. Especially when you make fun of them. My uncle is a trainer at Sea World, as most of my family is, where he takes care of the dolphins. Now, one day the dolphins had to be put in the tank adjoining the porpoise tank because their tank was getting "upgraded" (i.e. massage jets, mini fridge). What started as a friendly back and forth between neighbors, turned into a vicious debate about who the cuter animal was (everyone knows dolphins are cuter). Then which species is smarter (toss up). Then why one always sleeps with their co workers (baiting (but also porpoises)). Well, my uncle, no longer able to bear the incessant chirping decided to dress up as an overly hairy porpoise in order to make fun of the porpoises' style sense (My uncle is a little off his rocker, like most of my family). To make a long story short, this is what they did to his Mustang.

They totally turned into a Sentra, painted it yellow, and smashed it. Bastards!

A testament that people change:

I have beem into texting for the past couple of years, mostly because the sound of my voice makes people cringe. I have converted a few over since starting; just as someone coverted me a while back. But I never got into the whole T9 text prediction thing.
Until now. I started doing it when I got my new phone because I was too lazy to switch the settings (I know all you have to do is push the pound key), fully intending to switch back. I'll never switch back. It just spelled Merle Haggard without having to switch over to manual.
I have also decided to start titling my entries in different colors. Vibrant, no?

Curb islands are overpriced planters that are intended to slow down traffic while also maintaining a bike lane. Or in other words: useless expensive objects designed to inflate the transportation budget so as to insure an ever increasing amount of extraneous money in future calculations. Yea beauracracy!

Well the ones in Kate's neighborhood are getting taken out. (why did I not mention the Ryan's whom also live there? They don't read my blog. Why not Jess? Because the no blogging son of a bitch is dead to me. Dead!) I hope they increse the speed limit on Shoal Creek though. Without those pesky curb islands the speed at which I can travel is limited only by the size of my balls.

I'll leave that comment out there for you to make fun of me. Enjoy.

New pre test strategy... go see an awesome show and get krunk on rumpleminze and Lone Star. I totally raped that Spanish test, or rather violared los examinito. And screw studying.
IFN (In further news): I am one step closer to world domination. Vintage Ceramic Fruit Tree world domination that is. Here's my new baby. Damn! Stupid school computer won't let me link it. Its item number 6217623757 on ebay. Whats kinda wierd is that I know my collection is too big but the urge to buy more is bigger than me. Some nights I have dreams that thhe fruit trees are trying to kill me and I can't seem to get away. I toss and turn all night and wake up in a puddle of cold sweat. But there are the fruit trees, making me breakfast just like every morning. Now its gotten to the point where I don't think I can end it because I really do love them but im not IN love with them. The relationship might be coming to a close or maybe its just stagnant. I hate to say this, but, if I give up on them, who's going to take them in. I mean, they're old, a little bit bottom heavy, and let's face it, they just aren't as pretty as they used to be. Don't get me wrong, the sex is good, but its like we're just going through the motions as of late. They're not really into anything kinky and I've tried everthing I can think of. Le gusta me, me gusta le? No se.

So everything for my Frat/Sorority guy/girl costume is ordered and in the mail. This is going to be the best halloween ever! I'm planning to get there a little late so everyone is already a little drunk and I can play my favorite game, "Catch up to the drunk people by bonging Jaegermeister and then bonging my own Jaeger vomit" I know, I know, but that is how you spell Jaeger.
In further news, we need to go camping at Lost Maples when the leaves change in mid to late November. It's going to be f-ing cold, which is good, much better than hot. Get back to me if you are down. I volunteer my camping buddy, Kate Neu, and Tyler will be there in spirit and we will probably make a drunken cell phone call to him in the middle of the night. I do all the cooking, Huevos con carbon for breakfast and Kate does the cleaning. We have this shit down to a science, all you need to do is buy firewood, beer, and Chorizo. Kate loves her Chorizo. Get back to me. Or rather... Hollah!

So Jess decided to pass out after UT stomped all over OU. I did the natural thing and placed his hand in a bowl of warm water, for scientific reasons, with Lisa as my willing accomplice and Hollowell as a silent conspirator. It was in there for a good 45 mnutes (and Jess's hand was in water for 35). This trick does not work on Jess. We can't say that the hypothesis is incorrect because we don't have a large enough sample group... yet. I dare you to pass out while I'm still awake. I'm like the drunk energizer bunny. The drunk pranking energizer bunny.

Oh man, way too much coffee! I'm sitting at work, fidgeting rather, and I can't study because I can't focus and the yoga place next door is having "body choir" and screaming in unison a lot to crappy music. I keep envisioning starting a gym against yoga studio war where I go in there with a couple of resident juicers upstairs and dismember a bunch of hippies and then eat their bodies for the protein but then vomit them back up because their flesh is soaked in patchoiulli. It's not reasonable or kind but thats what really gooes through my mind. I just gave you a window into my soul, will you keep it open. I know it's drafty but if you close it will get all stuffy and I'll think of killing hippies again. Oh god! I think I'm having a stroke!