February 2008 Archives

Yeah, you.

The one who checks my blog from a medical office in Shreveport, LA. I know who you are and why you check my blog. The last ocet of your IP address is .250. If you were smart enough to know how to check your IP address you could confirm that i'm actually talking about you, but I know you aren't that smart. So, trust me when I say that i'm talking about you.

 I know that you check my blog because you a) don't like lesbians and b) think you can use my friendship with your brothers soon to be ex-wife (my best friend) against her because i'm gay. I know you think that because you're ignorant. Lesbians don't want to have sex with every female they know, especially ones they have been best friends with since high school. You might know that if you weren't such a bigot. That's right,  B.I.G.O.T.  How do I know that you're a bigot? Because I spend enough time with my best friends kids to know that they come back from YOUR house dropping the "N" bomb. That might be cool in that pathetic little existence of yours, but to the rest of the world, you are called a BIGOT. I linked that to an online dictionary so you could read up on it.

I know that you spent one minute and 39 seconds checking up on my blog. It was right around noon so i'm guessing that you were cyberstalking me on your lunch break. Good little worker, you are. Not even on the company dime.

I know that your company hasn't upgraded to Vista yet. Smart IT move there. It's better to work out all those bugs first you know. They did give you IE 7 though. isn't tabbed browsing the best?

I know all of this (and really a whole lot more), because, well, nevermind. I can't give away all my secrets can I?

I know at this moment you are probably a bit shocked.  I would be too if I thought I was being smart by cyberstalking the lesbian and all this time she actually knew! Imagine that...a lesbian with a brain. Well, heres a shocker, rocket scientist. It's not that difficult to track dumb people.

So, im doing you a favor by telling you that i'm onto your little game.  Now you don't have to spend your lunch breaks trying to gather information that isn't there! You can enjoy your lunch in peace and tell bigot jokes to all of your friends!

The gloves are coming off.

Oh, and you can stop checking my Myspace too.

love,

me

 

When opening the refrigerator and realizing the sole two contents are Cheerios and a single beer and you think to yourself "That'll go together..."

Never tell a bartender that you don't want to feel your face by the end of the night. Because she will comply.