story time

I sat here at my computer with the intent to tell a story... but I can't think of any. So I thought I would tell a joke instead. But as I type this I can't, for the life of me, remember any good ones! (Guess what?... CHICKEN BUTT! Doesn't count, does it?)

Oh! Just thought of a small incident that happened the other day:

It was another one of those days where I just HATE scorpions...like every other day. Except this day was extremely hot. I mean H. O. T. Flaming pit hot. I just got home from work and I'm up in my hot room, taking off my shoes, ready to kick back and, I don't know.. update my blog or something. And then I remembered that I have some ice cream in the freezer downstairs! Happy day!! I jauntily galloped (as jauntily as one can gallop with heat stroke) down the stairs and into the back room. I opened the back door and prepared to step over the threshold and obtain the yummy, cold goodness that is Butter-Pecan ice cream.
It was then that I chose to look down. Much to my surprise and dismay my eyes fell upon the sick, unnatural, evil body of a scorpion! It was just standing there, staring at me with it's nasty little eyes and it's wicked little stinger! I froze. There was nothing I could do! This horrid spawn of Satan caught me off guard and, seeing as I had no shoes on, unarmed.

I shut the back door and walked up to my room...
Butter-Pecanless.


Stupid scorpion

monday night poker

As you may or may not know, every Monday night at the Bull Pen is Texas Hold-em night. So me and a friend decided to randomly go just to see what it's all about. We were having a great time watching the game, chowing down on beer-battered deep-fried goodness, sipping our cokes and grenadine, when all of a great sudden a shouting match broke out! Apparently some dude was caught cheating (and I don't see why this was a big deal seeing as they don't gamble with real money) and the bouncer had to intervene. The big bouncer that looks like Peter Jackson. The one that got stabbed like twice. Being a man of large stature (not Nephi large... more like Buddha large) I thought it quite odd that his weapon of choice was... pepper spray. It was immensely effective, however, in the confusion Peter Jackson forgot how to aim. I was downwind of the infernal pepper spray and got a facefull of the stuff. So today, if you saw me, I was not crying. Or tokin it up.



Now I suppose I should tell the real story... but it's not as entertaining. It's actually quite boring. So maybe I won't tell. (Muahahahahahahahahaaaa)

random thought

I was just thinkin the other day...
If one were to splice crocodile DNA with that of a goldfish (specifically the growth gene), would one end up with an orange croc that grows depending on how big the body of water in which it lives?