RUBBISH.

I was talking to a friend today about how much our AP U.S. History teacher resembles a grizzly bear. He has a short temper, tends to get very territorial and loud, and he has a fuzzy face. Hence, the possibility of him actually being part bear would make sense.

For example: NOBODY can read his handwriting. It seriously looks like bear-talk.

In the middle of class, while looking over the commentary on my essays, I tried to articulate each sentence with growling sounds. Fortunately, he failed to notice.

I was also provoked to ask him how many pic-a-nik baskets he had stolen that day.

Break A Leg. No, Seriously. Do It.

Exams are this week, so I suppose that it's not too strange that I'm thinking about my classes so much. Regardless, here's a story I'd like to share with you anyway:

So my AP U.S. History teacher told us a story about John Wilkes Booth-

The guy who shot Abraham Lincoln for those of you who don't know....

And he mentioned that after shooting Lincoln and subsequently jumping onto the stage like a mad man, he fell and broke his leg.

Correction. The dumb ass who shot Abraham Lincoln....

After hearing this, I couldn't help but chuckle and think of the phrase people used to tell actors before they perform on stage: "Break a Leg". Then I stopped laughing, because I realized that I had made a terrible pun.....

The End.

Who Reads That Shit Anyway?

Manuals.

I mean, they only instruct us on how to utilize every specific part of the item in order to avoid the [high] possibility of asking other people redundant, stupid questions.

Who needs 'em? I'd rather sit for hours trying to reinvent the wheel anyway.

'Tis the Season for Diseasin'

Today, it just occurred to me.

I'm the only person within my residence that hasn't fallen ill.

It makes me feel invincible. Bacteria and all of the other various pathogens are no match for my divine immune system. You say Swine Flu?

I say FUCK THE FLU.

Lysol kills 99.9% bacteria. Want to know what happened to the other 0.01%?

They got FUCKED.

It's a cold day in Hell, baby. The fire don't start 'till I arrive.

That's HOT.

However, there's just one thing which remains inexplicable under my jurisdiction.

ONE thing.

Why are pickle jars so hard to open?... :-(