Saturday night's alright for fighting!
My boys JB & Chilion proved that quite some time ago.
They just had to get in a fight, and get arrested.
God, I hate people who do that, pathetic fuckers.
I've seen it one too many times, and it never turns out right.
That night, Daniel had to go around to JB's at 5am, wake up his dad,
and explain why the ass wipe wasn't gonna make it to his soccer match.
Oh well, let's forget about the past.
As almost every night, I'm just sitting at home being bored out of my mind.
Like any one cares.
I've been working the night shift all week, from 3 to midnight, and I was busy as fuck.
Now, oncoming week, I have the morning shift, and on friday night I have to DJ at the Jam-Inn.
I'm really looking forward to playing music there, but I don't know if I can survive 'till saturday morning 5am. On top of that, I'm dating my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend for a month that saturday, so I can't catch up on my sleep. Not to be a whining bitch, but I'm gonna be seriously exhausted when I get home saturday night.
New clothes.
I ordered new clothes today.
Well to be precise, two new jeans, by Forplay. I can't wait till I get them, 'cause some of the pants I have now are falling apart. Cheecky discount jeans. And next week, I'll have to get me some new underwear, woop-tee-fucking-doo. I hate paying for everything myself. And I really, really hope I can live with my parents forever.
Conclusion.
I have said nothing interesting, nothing educational, and nothing amusing.
Which contributes to the fact that I am the twobillionandthirst lame blogger.
Marth signing out, smell ya.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Twenty.
No, I'm not gonna say "Hello world." like a fucking 13 year old during his first ICT or what-fucking-ever class.
So, yesterday was my 20th birthday, but I feel like it was my 80th. I'm getting too fucking old! It's a good thing I had friends to celebrate with, some more than others. The best fucking present I received, was Cindy's own Linkin Park wallet. Her fucking own wallet! People, it sounds shittier than it is. To me, that worn-down piece of leather is fucking priceless. All about who gave it, and the fact that it was her own. Fucking pure emotional value people! Though I doubt that even half of you has felt this way about anything. It's ok, you don't have to understand, as long as you read this, and keep reading from now on.
Back to the subject of origin. I was really bummed out that my girlfriend Cindy, from hereon after dubbed "Cindy2", could not be at my birthday. Her fucking grandma has the same birthday as I have! So even if our relationship lasts for years to come, I will not be able to hold my love in my arms on my own fucking birthday.
The best time I had that night, was with Joey and Jorina. We drank, and drank, and drank as if we knew no limit. And after we went to Tiel to drink some more and make noise, we came back to my place again and watched the whole fucking first season of Californication. By the time we were done, it was 9.30 AM.
This is all I have to tell you for now, I hope to bring you some updates actually worth reading soon.
Just remember these four simple things:
1. I do not give a fucking crap if you are Jesus or God, president or King, peasant or corporate executive, you can not touch me.
2. If you think I say "fuck" or "fucking" too much, then fuck off.
3. I like to criticize everything, even myself. Do not hold it against me, I am merely human. I have no interest in making a statement or proving I'm smart. I just wish to vent and cheer, even if my fucking voice is drowned out by the other 2 billion bloggers who have absolutely nothing to say.
4. My English is not perfect. I am not english, it's not my native language. Do not hold it against me.
Remember, for I will come back from the afterlife to make your life miserable. Anything and everything is possible.
So, yesterday was my 20th birthday, but I feel like it was my 80th. I'm getting too fucking old! It's a good thing I had friends to celebrate with, some more than others. The best fucking present I received, was Cindy's own Linkin Park wallet. Her fucking own wallet! People, it sounds shittier than it is. To me, that worn-down piece of leather is fucking priceless. All about who gave it, and the fact that it was her own. Fucking pure emotional value people! Though I doubt that even half of you has felt this way about anything. It's ok, you don't have to understand, as long as you read this, and keep reading from now on.
Back to the subject of origin. I was really bummed out that my girlfriend Cindy, from hereon after dubbed "Cindy2", could not be at my birthday. Her fucking grandma has the same birthday as I have! So even if our relationship lasts for years to come, I will not be able to hold my love in my arms on my own fucking birthday.
The best time I had that night, was with Joey and Jorina. We drank, and drank, and drank as if we knew no limit. And after we went to Tiel to drink some more and make noise, we came back to my place again and watched the whole fucking first season of Californication. By the time we were done, it was 9.30 AM.
This is all I have to tell you for now, I hope to bring you some updates actually worth reading soon.
Just remember these four simple things:
1. I do not give a fucking crap if you are Jesus or God, president or King, peasant or corporate executive, you can not touch me.
2. If you think I say "fuck" or "fucking" too much, then fuck off.
3. I like to criticize everything, even myself. Do not hold it against me, I am merely human. I have no interest in making a statement or proving I'm smart. I just wish to vent and cheer, even if my fucking voice is drowned out by the other 2 billion bloggers who have absolutely nothing to say.
4. My English is not perfect. I am not english, it's not my native language. Do not hold it against me.
Remember, for I will come back from the afterlife to make your life miserable. Anything and everything is possible.
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