Azalar Hex

She's pregnant now probably.

After almost a solid week of headaches, I finally passed out tonight and died tomorrow afternoon at 2:47 PM. I left my entire collection of DS games to my nephew, but he ended up forgetting to get them at the funeral .

I spent a good 30 seconds trying to figure out how this was sexual.

Mochi that creepy, bro. I just discovered these remixes today myself and was listening to that one earlier.

See you guys in a few months.

Slightly bent pasta fork.

Original or English dub Bible Black?

That's what you get for talking too much. See, I only post when I have something important to say.

Twerk.

I'm too busy flowing like a harpoon to listen.

Random NPCs in a titty magazine. I didn't watch through the entire series, though. So there may have been more hidden somewhere. Actually looking for screenshots, it looks like they didn't have nipples. Ah well. I still didn't remember the boobs, or I wasn't paying attention.

I had always watched this show on adult swim. My 14 year old nephew seemed interested in it, so I got some episodes for him to watch. Wish I knew about the nipples that got edited out before I did that.

Striving to be normal is like striving to get eye herpes. It's just easier to be insane. You get away with saying a lot more stuff to people's faces that you wanted to say to them anyway but thanks to the gel of insanity surrounding your personality, you don't have to worry about them taking you seriously and punching you in the boob.

When I was living in a church yard in Nashville a couple of women who were also sleeping there latched onto me for protection. I ended up giving the older one my spare toothbrush. The younger one talked my ear off the entire night and despite saying she was on the street because she wouldn't sleep with random guys she tried to kiss me multiple times and told me many times how much she liked me and thought I was really handsome. Awkward as hell. Felt bad for the two of them, though. They begged me to sleep near them so nobody would screw with them overnight. Aside from some loud dude things went pretty calm. Took them over to the shelter the next day so the older one could use the restroom. They didn't let her in because it was the men's shelter, so she pissed herself in protest. Once I got out of the homeless situation I felt bad because I pretty much disappeared on the two of them without notice. But the older one was most certainly a biter so she wasn't an easy mark. Younger one had some seriously obvious meth issues. They were both heading to the women's shelter last I heard but they hadn't been staying there for the same reason I wasn't at the men's. Really hoping they did alright. I couldn't do anything for them even if I knew where they were, though.

There are much worse ways to spend a Sunday.

I have an unnatural fear of a medium sized brightly lit silent windowless room decorated with colorful wall paintings for children that my subconscious believes I had a nightmarishly terrifying experience in when I was really young, where I witnessed my friends and other children being pulled into the hallways to a room I couldn't enter in the back to be exposed to something that tore them apart while blood drained down the hall back to the room I was in, until I was completely alone. Or so my nightmares would have me believe. There's this sort of strange familiar feeling like a repressed memory when I think about it too much. I think maybe I used to have the dream a lot as a kid. I haven't actually had this dream for as long as I can remember, but it popped into my head one day and the whole thing sort fell together over the next couple of weeks. Now I fear it. I feel like there was a place I was taken care of as a child out there in the world. And something is dancing around in my subconscious because of it. Probably some creepy-ass wall-art in a day care I went to or something.

1: Walruses are not native to my current location. 2: I don't want to eat a walrus. 3: My oven isn't big enough to fit a walrus inside of it. 4: My landlord says I can't cook a walrus in my apartment. 5: There isn't enough room in my refrigerator to fit the leftover walrus. 6: I don't know how to cook a walrus. 7: 8: 9: 10:

Cats are required by cat law to seek out the person who wants them the least and lay on them, regardless of the level of that cat's social anxiety.

I wouldn't dump her. We'll have some stuff to talk about and I might need a little time to adjust to the situation. But I ain't sucking a dick.

Scalding hot at first to melt the stink and scald it off. Then once everything is done I bring it down to cold slowly. Back when I lived with my sister this was required because she didn't believe in having her AC set below 88 during the summer. Like sleeping in a kiddie pool filled with hot cooking oil.

He's some Irish guy, right?

The fried ring of onion rules over all. The fry is nothing but a slice of hot potato meat. The tater tot is superior due to the crunchy shell. But the ring of onion reigns supreme because it is crunchy AND it can give you the power of bad breath. Weak potato bow down.

... and a damn spider crawled up onto my leg. I was almost done, too. My whole week is ruined.