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So I'm looking for an apartment in auckland on trade me and getting a headache when I realise the pixies that are dancing on my screen are actually just a halucination. They're telling me to probe the chicken, but we all know that probing the chicken leads to the chicken being of a poorer quality, such as that of KFC, who often probe their chicken.
I like Jimmy Pop because he's a dumb white guy... but he doesn't shave his hiney so he's not queer or anything. Ooooh the pixies are back again. It must be time for food. I'm almost done here.
Okay, that was written yesturday when I was bored and hungry, and I'm sorry about the comic not showing up, I forgot to change the numbers and stuff back from 'doom'. Anyway, you should have been able to view everthing without errors if you pressed "previous" or went through the archive. If you weren't that smart, well that's not really my problem.
I was reading Real Life and apparently Greg Dean is also a fan of Gilmore Girls. As he's a big inspiration of mine, this vindicated me a little bit. I finally finished the back log of punks and nerds and will be adding a link soon to the site. It's good. It's sad to see stubble slip, but nice when there's something just as good if not better, to replace it.
So, returning to the morbidity that haunted my rants for a wee while, I've decided to leave instructions for my funeral and my stuff. The who gets what isn't so important because the only time my life could be at risk in the near future is when I road trip north, and all my stuff will be in the car, so if I go, it comes with me. But I really think everyone should make one of these. Death isn't that scary, pain is, but not death.
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