September 24th, 2007

Tomorrow I’m an NFL Guard.

Sitting in front of a computer all day is the dork equivalent to what an NFL lineman must feel like on a Monday morning. Just now my neck started to throb with pain cause I’ve been hunched over my screen like a freakish zombie over a bowl of brains. My eyes hurt like hell cause the damn display brightness was set absurdly low all day, and I just now noticed it cause I’m on the boathouse desk and it’s getting dark. My feet are as big and red as a clowns cause all the blood in my body has drained down to them. My strong hand pinkie keeps jutting out in painful and unnatural ways, and I think my legs stopped working four hours ago. I’m nervous to get up and walk for fear I’ll drop into the pond and sink to the bottom like a lead brick. The whole scene makes for an unattractive picture to be sure. I’d be keen to start up a dork marathon. None of this knowledge based bull-crap either, just a simply test of endurance. Who can last the longest without water, food, or company while maintaining a constant state of internet input. Once you tip over and fall to the floor in a heap of pale flesh and regret you’re disqualified. The winner gets a vacation to NORAD.

Built on WordPress. 95% Valid 43% of the time. Eat my feed. Snatch my vCard. Vote for Barack. I'd also like to thank the Academy, James’s Gate Brewery, the makers of Red Star Acid, and my undead laywer Fred Marpukiss

photo Amos Moses Griffin
Rising Fawn Road
Harpersville, Alabama, 35078
207 421-1771
AIM YIM