The Ultimate Gong Show

Adam, here's how I get out of my funk. Best told in pictures. For more info, I'll tell you next time I see you.

I like-a one on right, one on left not so much. High Five!

They-a girlfriend. Is Nice!

They make-a sexytime! Wowee Wowee!

"Her vageen hang like sleeve of wizard"

P.S. I hope this "proof" is good enough for your judgemental attitude. Besides, this is Camrose, not Calgary. As in, it don't happen much. But that doesn't matter since I am now out of "in a funk". Is nice!

Sacrifice

Sacrifice: giving up your own wants and desires for someone else's happiness.

Dammit. Can't I go at least a few hours without going back into this funk?? Fuck. One day, Adam, one day...

What if the Beatles Were Irish?

by Roy Zimmerman, aka, genuis.

P.S. How's this for getting out of my funk, ADAM, you fucker??

Control

If you love something, you will set it free.

Indeed.

Well, this has been a surreal week. My mind has sort of been in a constant purgutory state since the death of my cousin. I'm in Limbo. I'm not working or sleeping well. My eating habits have become random at best. Ok, that was a few days ago, I'm better now. I'm even making tacos tonight! Yum. I'm still feeling slightly disorientated from the experience. I don't want to dive into the situation about my cousin, since it was a pretty brutal affair to begin with. Every family has their own black sheep I guess. I'm not sure if that's the reason why I didn't go to his funeral yesterday though.

Because of this, I came back to Camrose and it was like walking into a new town. All of my roommates were sick, and nobody seemed to be around anywhere. Everything was just...off. Then I was ignored more than once. It was one of those times when you can imagine what's going through a person's head and they're thinking, "Oh, it's only Ben."

Now, I'm tired. I'm lying on the ground defeated. I'm just waiting for that final blow to finish me. Yeesh, that was overly dramatic. Whatever, I like it.

Cheers!

Death Becomes Us

Once introduced, I find that I am particularly stoic to death. Yet, when it comes to the little things, I become very distraught and I tend to blow things out of proportion. Why is that?

Maybe it's an emotional imbalance, my internal drama-o-meter is flipped around. Or maybe it's the little things that I can handle; that the bigger things are too much for me that I just cannot connect to them. What does that say about me then? I'll fret over missing a movie because I broke my legs in some non-descript accident?

Maybe my subconscious simply doesn't allow me to become emotionally attached because if I'm such a basket case when a girl rejects me, how I am I supposed to handle something as monumental as death?

Cheerio

Oh Lord, get me out of this slum. I need some serious picker-upper-ige.

I know, I'll watch Casino Royale.

*2 hours later*

Damn, I feel better!

Cheers!

Why did the blonde drink a glass of water?

So that the cement would go down easier.

HAHA