In-Character Blogs
Ya know, when you're playin a video game, and, like, you've just killed a bunch of demons, or eyeball monsters, and you find that rocket launcher and a bunch of health kits, what does that mean?
No, it does not mean you're gonna be wading through on fuckin easy street splattering bad guys all the way to the princess or reactor or whateverthefuck it is at the end. It means you're gonna be up against some goddamn Antichrist boss monster in the next fuckin room.
My life is turning into a video game. One of those shitty ones from Japan where nothing anybody says makes sense and there's no game-guide, but boy, does it have good graphics! Click for More
Foreboding. Yeah, that's the fucking word.
I knew goin to Oklahoma was gonna be a bad idea in the long run. A big goddamn distraction. Sure, that bitch Sylva needed what she got, but you gotta take care of yourself first. Just like when the goddamn masks pop outta the ceiling on airplanes... put yours on FIRST, then go help that grandma in the next seat with hers.
So we just put a mask on fuckin OKC, and now we're back home suckin fumes, 'cause Positive's takin the initiative... Click for More
I guess we couldn't have expected it all to go better than it did... Click for More
** PRIVATE ENTRY **
I came out of the closet today and damn, it feels good.
** PRIVATE ENTRY **
After being drugged and kidnapped and fired, I really thought my day couldn't get any worse. Boy, was I wrong.
I gotta say, as fucked up as all this shit is, giving that Dale fucker exactly what he deserved was right what the goddamn doctor ordered. Yeah, maybe I felt bad for a minute giving the bastard over to the po-lice, but ya know, they were there, and there was no way in hell I was gonna let him go out that window. At least not without a couple broken legs. Read More...
If you've seen the 11 o'clock news, you know I was the victim of a kidnapping attempt tonight. I can't discuss too many details, because it's the subject of an on-going police investigation, but I can report that I am fine now and police have a suspect in custody. I'll keep you up to date with more on this story as it unfolds. Thanks for all the concerned e-mails! I'm taking a few days off to recover, but don't worry, I'll be back on Action News before you know it. Stay safe, America!
Home sweet spoiled kitty. On the one hand, how bad a guy can Dale be if he gives cats treats? On the other hand, he's a fucking kidnapper; I'll not succumb to Stockholm syndrome over a can of cat food. I also don't like /dev/null taking food from strangers or being fed at inappropriate times. Chances are good there's a pile of regurgitated tuna somewhere, waiting for an unsuspecting, naked foot....
The guy with the answers came, and all he left me with was more damn questions. Who is this Positive bastard? Why did he grab us? What are we supposed to do now? And since when do guys spontaneously combust in the middle of rooms?! Guess I need to read the Enquirer a bit more often – it's starting to look a little more pertinent. Holy shit that hurt – worse than the time I got shrapnel in my ass out in The Sandbox...
I don't like ghost stories. Stupid fake ass shit that people have been buying into longer than the fucking lottery. Mirrors, fake smoke, recorded spooky sounds, all that shit your local fuckin JayCees pull off every year at the goddamn charity Haunted House. An you don't believe that shit is real, doya?
They're cons, and I fuckin hate cons and I fuckin hate people who get conned....
I had the best intentions of doing a daily journal entry detailing things that had happened 8 years ago, however getting kidnapped turned my thoughts to the present....
Dale seems like a nice guy, but he should stop shaving with Hanlon's Razor. The man just isn't bright. Speaking of bright, what the hell is up with Wilson? I would think this talk of superpowers was fucking insane if I hadn't seen that. We've got to get out of here. I'm too young to die. I'm not done with my second chance yet.
First I get sent to freaking Iraq to defuse bombs and watch civilians get blown to bits. Then my momma and home get blown away by that bitch Katrina. All I wanted was to settle down, do some work, figure out a major for school, and maybe find a girl again. Now I am getting locked in rooms and burnt to a crisp by a pyrokinetic pot-head. Starting to wonder if God has a plan for me after all – and I am hoping that it doesn't look anything like the plan he had for Job.
I figured it made sense to have a separate blog for the "weird shit keeps happening" phase of my life. Here's hoping that phase is either short or awesome, although it's not looking great so far.
Starting my journal back up. I haven't written anything since... Since September of 2001, when the world fell down. The same sort of feeling has been in the air lately, seems like maybe restarting this journal might bring events full circle. I don't know.
I am leaving this accounting of my actions to explain how I got to where I am now and the crooked path that led me here. I am not looking for absolution, I suspect I wouldn't get it if I tried. I just need to leave something behind for people that will come looking for me once I am dead...
Oh my goodness, my very own blog! I am terribly excited. Welcome, America, to your up-to-the-minute source for all things Tallahassee!
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