Mailcube.

Yes, you read that right. Screw mailbags, I GET MY FUCKING MAIL IN A CUBE.

Mail transportation solutions aside… I actualy get fanmail! Oh, how it fills me with joy every time I get an e-mail from an adouring fan. I thought perhaps I’d share them with you, and perhaps answer some questions for those who took the time to write. (By the by, I’m not posting email addresses and such. Yeah.)

EMAIL 1:

—
hey ben. i like yur site. i dont like chinese movies ether! also, [CENSORED, TO SEXY FOR THE INTERNET] and then i had to clean it up. is that bad?
—

RESPONDED:

—
Hey, thanks for the compliment. just for your information, Chinese cinema actual kicks a lot of ass, I just don’t like Steven Chow. Although I did actually watch Kung-Fu hustle twice. So that might be saying something.

Also, in answer to your question, it’s perfectly normal for you to [CENSORED, CHESTER], and it would be completely reasonable if you [CENSORED, BACK OFF JACK], even in the kitchen.

I eagerly await a response, preferrably with pictures.
—

EMAIL 2:

—
Yur a loser, u only hat Dean Cain becuz hes better then you Dean Cain is the best acterand he could kick your ass!!!!
—

RESPONDORED:

—
Wow, I didn’t know it, but I guess they must have made keyboards with braille on them, because YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY BLIND. Go you, fight those odds or whatever.
—

Email 3:

—
Hello from YouSendIt,

You have a file named “02 – remember the name (featuring styles of beyond).mp3″ (5405 KB) waiting for download.

Message:

IS MUSICS!
—

RESONDED:

—
Musics eh? Hmm, well this sounds absolutely perfect for everythi- NOT! You can try to trick me all you want, I know about your tricks. There are probably icky things behind that link. Bad things. Keep your disgusting internet paws off of me!
—

Okay, so my mail isn’t acually all that great. Maybe you could spruce it up, and ake it on…. THE MAILCUBE.

(SMOKE.)

Time Away

Okay, just like the countless times before, I’ve neglected to update my little “blog” on the internets. And I get asked all the time, “Ben, how could you possibly deprive your readers of the one-seven minutes of joy every other morning that they look forward too? How could you strip away their souls as such?” Well, it’s actually easier than you think! I’ll tell you some of the reasons why:

The Consortium – For those of you who are incapable of turning your head slightly to the right, I’d like to take this time to tell you that I have another website. That’s right, a website. With contents. What’s more, I actually redesigned the whole entire thing. Well, kind of. I didn’t really do any actual coding, I just found one of my old leather belts and whipped this asian kid for two hours. The next thing I knew, the kid was dead, and my website was on the screen. In any case, I am now forced, by the cosmic powers of the universe to write content for it. I also have to continue finding asian kids to “help” me update the fucker. And that’s tiring.

Dream Theater – Okay, I have this friend. You might know him as Keith, or in other circles prisoner #582931. And at some points, he won’t shut up about this band. At first, I thought he made them up. His stories were ridiculous: people being paid to physically tackle the lead vocalist off the stage during their shows, 45 minute bass solos, biting off a fucking bat’s head; I seriously considered phoning a priest. But then I listened to them… and they are amazing. They have this album, right, and it’sa giant 80 minute story about some chick getting murdered and such. And it embodies qite basically every single awesome genre of music: rock, metal, techno, polka, it’s got it all. They have 25 minutes songs. They have 13 minute instrumentals. They have RAGTIME SOLOS. Seriously, go be checking them out.

Martial Arts – Okay, so I can’t actually do martial arts. But I did kick a hobo. And not in the normal way I kick hobos. Get this: there’s this alleyway I take to get to school. Unfortunately, they decide to plow it into a giant snow mountain that blocks the end. So you have to climb this snow mountain to get to the other side. No probalo you say? Well what if there is a mysterious smokinghobo that awaits you on the other side EVERY MORNING?! Yeah, terrifying isnt it? SO I did what any rational person would do: I jumped from the top of the mountain and kicked him right in the face. And killed him. Yeah. With the kick. Death and all. Okay, that’s a lie. But I did land really close to him and freak him out. And he wasnt there the next morning. So I can only assume he died of “post-terror syndrome”. Yeah.

So the next time you whine about your pathetic psychological addiction to my words and internet abilities, think to yourself, “what amazing adventures is he having that could possibly deter his updates?” And then smile, knowing that my life is more exciting than yours, and that you will always have that to look up to.

And now, a random quote:

“Wherefore the fathers of infintiy dance in the moonight, a great beyond within the outlandish realm of impossibility; they dance for our freedom, and the ones beneath snicker at their footsteps.”

Snow day?

Okay, firstly I’d like to nail something into everyone’s head: I live in Canada, so snow days are not only welcome, but expected in high quantities. Now, I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, but today is only the second snow day of the year and I’m pissed. Seriously, last year we had 10 by now. How am I supposed to hunt wildebeast and danger when I have to go to school every day?

Well, being that I’m not one to ask questions without giving a few potential answers, here are my thoughts on new reasons to cancel school.

Scary Day – If it is cloudy or something, or for whatever reason the sun doesnt come up all the way by 6am, school should be declared on account of it being too scary outside. Serisouly, no one is impervious to fear, and darkness is the feariest thing around. Also, Halloween should automatically be declared a Scary Day for hopefully obvious reasons.

Chosen Day – I think it would be fun if a monkey could turn a wheel every month and whatever day it lands on gets to be a “Chosen Day”. On that day, there will be no school, no work, no anbything except parties. Wait… no work, except for the brothels. Yeah. Brothels and parties. Go monkeys!

Space Day – If I look out the window and cannot be 100% visually sure that there is a breathable atmosphere still clinging to the Earth, I want it declared a Space Day, because you can never be too careful with something as lethal as Space.

Old People Day – In my town, every Wednesday has been unofficially declared “Old People Day” because all the old age homes unlock the doors and let them recklessly roam the streets. I think that on these days, we shouldnt have to go to school to minimize the possibility of having to come in contact with one. You think I’m exagerrating? A random old lady I passed on the street once asked me “Sonny, you wanna scrape my toasts?” Simply horrifying. In fact, these days can almost be called Scary Days.

Ham Day – Anytime I feel like eating ham, no school. Period.

Don’t get me wrong, I love school. I just think that 35 hours a week is about 30 hours too many.

Another Recipe

Okay, this one is for the men out there who love meat. And by meat, I mean the meatiest of meat; not that processed crap. Naw, I’m talking like live cows and muated pigs that grow limbs made of bacon. Onwards!

A Thing that is Almost Unquestionably Meatloaf

Preparation Time: 40 of them
Recovery time: 40 more of them. (if you’re lucky)

Ingredients:

meat
a hammer
a hammer-proof pan
a picture of Chef Boyardee
a bread
seasonings (you know, like oregano or oatmeal)
heat source (ex. stove, barbeque, the sun)
more meat

Firstly, put the meat and the more meat in your pan. Then, hammer the meat for half an hour. If the meat has acheived a texture like that of mashed potatoes, you have succeeded in doing this step. If not, you will be punished by having to eat all of the meat.

For those that succeeded (and those who didn’t die from eating all of that uncooked meat), now is the fun part. Mold the “meat” into a loaf. You can use a bread as a model, as most breads come in loaves. Once your pile of gellatinous meat has acheived a loaf-like form, it is ready for the seasonings.

For those who are incompetent, a seasoning is just a food that is too small to eat on its own. Things like pepper, oregano, or red blood cells are good examples, but find your own seasonings to truly customize your dish. Once the meat is completely covered in seasonings, throw it in the oven (or whatever heat source you’ve acquired).

Set up your picture of Chef Boyardee so it is facing the meat as it cooks. This way you don’t have to worry about it burning, because it is a proven fact that nothing bad can happen in the presence of Chef Boyardee.

Return to your meat whenever you want, and voila! Perfect meatloaf!

Serves four.

Recipes for the Lazy Houseperson

Here’s a recipe for you people who don’t feel like cooking a GLORIOUS, GLORIOUS HAM for lunch. It’s done me well, and I’m sure you won’t get ulcers either, even if you try it! Well, here we goes:

ANYTHING SALAD

Preparation time: Varies from 29 seconds to 8 years.

Ingredients:

Salad Bowl
Those big-ass spoon things they use in salad
Lettuce (or spinach, if you are Popeye or Popeye-related)
Anything
Blender?

Directions:

Mix the Salad Bowl, the lettuce, and the spoons together for several minutes. When completed, you should have a bowl of lettuce with two spoon-things in it. If you instead have a pile of lettuce on the floor and a small child with the spoons impaled into his eyes, discountinue use of anything pointy.

Take the bowl of lettuce and add the anything to it. Incase the anything is too large for your bowl, insert your own hand into the blender, as punishment for your insolence.

Microwave for several hours, if needed. You can also add a little salt or something, for flavour. Enjoy!

So okay, guys.

Guys, I must direct you to something awesome. It’s called File Swap and it does just what any diot would think it does. You upload a file to their servers, and you get a random one in exchange. Of course, only good files are allowed to be uploaded. That’s why I get stuff like this:

File named “Tom Cruise at the Beach.jpg”
And this gem:

File named “FatBeardyBeard.jpg”

It’s not a perfect system (I’ve even gotten porn a few times, which is… uhh.. horrible, sure), but it’s still pretty neat. One problem though: due to certain limitations I’m been disallowed to upload my home made movie entitled “16 hours of Ham, Ham, Glorious Ham!”

By the way, if you guys are using it and you get pictures of George Bush’s head photoshopped onto Jabba the Hutt’s body, them’s mine, pardner.

The Coldinator 5000

Click the thing to look at the thing. And just so you know, it’s actually some sort of computer case, not a fridge. Haha funny BLOG!

>>RUN PROGRAM

>> RUN BRAINSCAN 2.0
Brainscan loading…………..
Scanning brain…….. error reading brain.
(A)bort? (R)etry? (F)uck off, machine!
>>Fuck off, machine!
Machine fucked.
>>RUN BRAINSCAN 2.0
Brainscan loading…………..
Scanning Brain…………. complete.
Subject: Ben Nicholls
(V)iew report? (P)rint Reports?
>>View
You are in MAIN SECTION.
>>Read data
(F)acts? (O)pinions? (I)diocy? (R)eturn?
>>Facts
FACT: 2 + 8 = Number
FACT: Pie = Excellent
FACT: Elton John = Gay as pineapples.
FACT: Pineapples = very gay.
FACT: Pineapples grow in the ground, not on trees.
(V)iew next 5? (R)eturn?
>>View next 5
FACT: Lester is a stupid name.
FACT: Truck’s name = Ken.
FACT: Ken >Return
(F)acts? (O)pinions? (I)diocy? (E)go check? (R)eturn?
>>Ego check
Ego check in progress… complete.
–
HAHAHA! I AM THE GREATEST! CHECK ME OUT, RIPPLING BICEPS ON MY ASS I’M SO RIPPED LOOK AT ME GO! I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD! FUCK YOU CAPTAIN AHAB, THAT WAS MY COLA!
–
Print ego check?
(Y)es (G)od no!
>>God no!
(F)acts? (O)pinions? (I)diocy? (E)go check? (R)eturn?
>>Opinions
OPINION: Pineapples grow on trees.
OPINION: Old people = almost dead.
OPINION: Purpose in life is to help along old people to their home.
OPINION: Old people’s home = heaven (or hell, if they were mean or ugly)
OPINION: Spongebob is the greatest thing since pay toilets.
(V)iew next 5? (R)eturn?
>>Return
(F)acts? (O)pinions? (I)diocy? (R)eturn?
>>Idiocy
Are you sure? (Y)es. (K)inda, yeah. (N)o.
>>Kinda, yeah.
Idiocy compiling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Error. Comprehension below 18%. View anyways? (Y)es. (Y)es.
>>No
That is not an option, fucktardo! (Y)es. (Y)es.
>>Quit
Idiocy readout compiling. . . . . . . . . . . . . Done.
—
So how about those pickled hams eh? It can take a side of beef with it and it doesn’t even freeze overnight! They were all standing there like idiots, clutching their spleens like it was Yom Kippur and Santa was coming with a pie made of custard and granite. But that wouldn’t be that bad, seeing as over half of the worlds population, stacked one on top of the other, would be able to reach those blue oxen and perhaps even steal their precious, precious juices.
—
(R)eturn? (C)ompile again?
>>Return
Compiling . . . . . . . . . . Done.
—
Don’t trust things smaller than your specially built robot that grinds coffee beans for you! It’s not worth the cheese, no matter how good the market is. What is really important is your spoon fragments, they hold both the keys. Although, I didn’t have to blow up the Chef Boyardee factory, it just housed too many immigrants to possibly smell like whipped cream.
—
(R)eturn? (C)ompile again?
>>Return!!!!!!!
Compiling . . . . . . . . error. Comprehension below 2%. System files overwritten.
Computer fail. System = not up. Banjos = 38 degrees. Viruses galore Mr. Spock. Ending lllllllll- no happy.

Checklist

While frantically searching my room for my collection of banjo-polka mixtapes (it’s fantastic music, I totally swear), I found my list of Crap to do During the Summer, which I completely forgot about. After parusing the list, it seems that I rock a thousand times as much as I thought before because I actually did half the stuff on the list.

Kick a midget
I did this during the Warped tour, while trying to get to the front of the crowd for The Transplants. This came back in full force on me though, as the midget somehow started crowd surfing and because I was front-center, he was able to kick me in the head like four times. My rating: 1 Mickey Rooney up.

Trick a hobo
While in London, Blaine and I were waiting for a friend to get a tatoo or some drugs or something (I forget). Then, two hobos approached us and asked us for some change. In typical Blaine fashion, he just screamed “HERE! TAKE IT ALL!” while throwing pennies at them, then ran away. I, being poor from buying way too much chocolate, gave them only half a Mars bar wrapper. One punch in the stomach later, I was being offered to go to the Rib Fest (which, being the Rib afficianado that I am, I knew was actually next week). I just screamed “THAT GUY OVER THERE HAS YOUR GARBAGE CAN LID!” This gave me enough time to escape across the street, where I hid behind a fat security lady guarding the train station parking lot. My rating: 2 Mickey Rooney’s up.

Eat an entire pie
Done, done and double done.

Go the whole summer without getting sick
Failed. The reason: see above.

Answer everything with a single phrase for a whole day.
I accomplished this early on in the summer, while only being punched in the head eight times. In retrospect, this was a bad idea. For example:

Person: Hi, welcome to McDonalds! May I take your order?
Me: NOBODY TOSSES A DWARF.
Person: I’m sorry, would you like something?
Me: NOBODY TOSSES A DWARF.
Person: I’m not trying to.. umm.. toss you.
Me: NOBODY TOSSES A DWARF.
Manager: What is all the yelling about?
Person: This guy won’t order his food, all he does is-
Me: NOBODY TOSSES A DWARF.
Person: do that.

This went on for over half an hour. They soon learnt that not only does no one toss a dwarf, but no one hits, throws sauce at, or arrests a dwarf. My my, what a fun day that was. My rating: 8000 Mickey Rooneys up. And that’s a lot of MIckey Rooneys! I might even say tha

There was an error. Some idiot uploaded too many pitures and broke everything. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Where’s the Groove – Part 1

It was late one Satruday night – correction, Saturday morning – and I was up doing what I’m always doing on Saturday morning: reading Stephen Hawking’s works whilst pondering the existence of the universe. And while I had solved almost half of the world’s major problems in this way, I had yet to answer the one question that has plagued man since the day he discovered that hitting stuff (usually women) with other stuff (usually clubs made of poorly galvanized rubber) makes noise.

Where’s the groove?

Enter stage left: The Better English. Of course, when I first heard of them I thought what any normal person would think: “I would rather wear a full body suit made of poison ivy and pure rust than listen to the music of these foul hellspawn!” Four fistfights later, I was politely informed (while still in my handcuffs that were totally unnecessary) that they were in fact not English. “Oh, well that’s a load off my mind,” I said, wiping the blood from my face with my shoulder, “Let’s give them a wee listen them, hmmm?”

Handcuffs removed, I sat upon my thinking chunk (which was crafted by myself from one of those cement parking lot things that you have to run over to take up the two necessary spaces for parking) and doned my headphones. The walkman whirred and whined, emitting strange beeps I’d never heard before. “Insolent machine!” I screamed, the sounds of it breaking clear to even those across the street. Luckily though, I managed to get it working after punching it only twice, which was a new record for me. The songs of the Better English were now at my beck and call.

Since I really hate that chick from The Sound of Music, I decided NOT to start at the start. Instead I started with the second track, aptly named Voo Doo Dolls. I instantly thought “Check it out, it’s kind of Sublimey.” Eight seconds later I’m thinking “Wait, it’s atually like Radiohead!” The course came around and I change my stance again, this thime thinking “It’s actually kind of Weezerey.” After the song was over I’d named about every band in that genre, thoroughly proving that I don’t know jack shit about music. All I knew was that the song stuck.

It was really strange. Now that I think about it, the song most remids me of “Hotel California” by The Eagles. I might be the only one in the world to make this connection though, I am no good at comparisons. I once compared the Pope to a pack of twinkies for a whole damn 1000 word essay (which I deservingly got back with the words “WHAT IN THE SHIT?!” written across the top in red marker). In any case though, it was very groovy, very mellow. Listening to the lyrics, I realized that song wasn’t actually about satanism as I originally thought. It’s actually a symbolism-heavy diatribe of mind-tangling proportions. The one who wrote this song is a damn poet, it’s incredible. And it’s all so natural, it ended before I even knew it was half over. I came out of the song stunned. With awesome.

I hit next on the Walkman and had to instantly throw it across the street. It broke into about 4000 pieces, one of which caught a fat pedestrian lady straight in the eye. The band members looked at me in horror, seeing their only hard copy of the songs getting kicked by a disgruntled overweight woman. “Why did you do that?!” they screamed, all accusing-like.

“Because the Thong Song came on. What would you have done?” I replied, all accusing-like. One of the band members then hung his head in shame, which I can only assume means that it was he who commited the henious crime of making extra copies of Sisqo. I insisted they get me another CD, as I could not walk away without hearing more of the alluring melodies of The Better English.

Without hesitation they said no and got into their car. They pulled out of the parking lot, hoping to deter my efforts for more of their music. That would not be the case. as a simple dropkick of a nearby pre-teen male allowed me to acquire the exact thing I needed: a skateboard. I quickly skated toward them and grabbed onto their bumper while they were stopped at the only stoplight in town. Unfortunately though, I’d forgotten that I’d actually cut their gas line earlier as a joke, so I had to skate through an ever increasing river of petrol. I fell over about two blocks into the ride, they having escaped my firey wrath.

For now…

—-

But in any case, The Better English are a pretty kick ass band from my hometown, I’d definately suggest checking them out at The Better English’s Website. The founders of Burrito Rock, get informed!

The Postulator

Okay, now because I am the highest order of warlock I just so happen to know that all of you are jealous of me. You are all jealous of my supreme ability to conjure up this virtual bohemoth, filling it instantly with words and punctuation. And hey, I can’t say I blame you.

In my bid to balance out the universe, I’ve decided to do something about this. No longer shall blogs be only for those with supreme coding skills and large supercomputers. Finally, a way to make sure that everyone everywhere knows your opinion about crap! My patented POSTULATOR will make it all easy. Simply fill in the easy-to-use form and you’ll be well on your way to internet stardom!

---

Poster: —-JERDYNSaucyTeen41Kittenlover5ANRCHIST ELITEBillyBoblolMe!Babygurlcockbeer10

Mood:
—-
Sad
Happy
Angry at world
Confused
Really Sad
Rambo
Totally Crushing!
Taco
What goes here I don’t get how to ma…
Loving

Hey,
—-
guess what I saw
I’m really sad
the world sucks
I’m here
wazzup yuz

—-
today!
again!
grrr!
in my pants!
lollz.
and I hate this!
It’s as if
—-
the world is a big fish barrel.
they hate me so much.
absolutely burrito!
PENIS ENLARGEMENT FOR ONLY PENNIES A DAY VIA…
they’re raining from the sky!
I can’t go a day without them!
I’m sooooo sad.
it won’t stop growing!
Why can’t they
—-
lift my house from the river?
come back with my good hat?
just shut up and stop talking forever.
make the pandas breed!
just make love, not peace.
see that I am very sad!
make me their cheif?!
make the itching stop?!
Stupid everything!

—-
BYE BYE!
NATURAL ENHANCEMENT FOR MA…
KISSIES!
REFUSE TO BE SILENT! RISE UP!
DOWN WITH BUSH!
IT’S TACO TIME!
cya lolz

---

There you go. Now anyone can be known across the world as funny and witty.

Hey hey, I’m just doing my part. No applause needed.

An interview with Dean Cain

In an effort to get to know the man who is – for some odd reason – raking in most of my internet traffic (see my last post), I brought him in to do an exclusive interview.

BN: Okay Mr. Cain, we’re ready to begin. Are you comfy?

DC: Uhh… not really, there’s a nail in my-

BN: Okay then! Let’s start this thing off lightly. I wouldn’t want to rush into the heavier stuff until you’ve exercised your thinking muscles.

DC: What are you talki-

BN: QUESTION 1: Why did you get into acting?

DC: Well, it’s a long story. Firstly, my mother was a gypsy and I had no-

BN: NO ONE CARES! QUESTION 2: Why do you think God allowed you to live when it was obvious from birth that you would plague us all with your charming looks and your horribly timed quips about being shot?

DC: What? How can you possibly ask such a question?

BN: I’ll ask the questions here, cockbag!

DC: What?!

BN: I said I’LL ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE COCKBAG. Are you a retard or something?

DC: *noticably upset* Well.. well you are the rudest person since the Bog Bopper died! Ha!

BN: I’m sorry, did you just try to insult me? Or were you practicing for your presentation to the retarded school of you are a big fag?

DC: That didn’t even make sense!

BN: I’ll make your senses with your own ass!

DC: What?!

BN: You must need your pills or something man, you sure are confused a lot.

DC: That’s it, I’m leaving. This interview is over.

BN: Oh really? Well I think you’ll find that escape is quite impossible.

DC: What do you mean? The door behind you is wide open. Also, your window is broken and there seems to be some sort of shoddy cardboard spaceship sticking through it.

BN: Yeah, it’s a work in progress. Now, I’m afraid I must kill you.

DC: What?! Why?

BN: Because you know too much. I can’t allow you to leave this room without a big gaping hole in your lower back.

DC: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!

BN: Yeah, my anti-Dean spleen defragmentor gun is also a work in progress. But I have the prototype right here! *punches dean in the stomach*

DC: Ow! Holy shit ow!

Well, the rest of the interview was unsuccessful, as Dean refused to answer the rest of my questions as I beat him around the room with my Hello Kitty Trademark Extendo-Glove. He eventually escaped up the stairs, which I refuse to climb because they are evil. He might of got out through one of my windows, but for all I know he’s still up there. I set up one of those things that makes sure your baby doesn’t fall down the stairs, so I should be able to club him with something if he comes back down.

My next post should detail the results of what I can only assume will be a lawsuit or arrest of some sort.

No, actually check THIS out.

After about an hour of hard thinking (which included two ice cream breaks, believe it or not), I finally remembered the password to my account on this site that tracks all my website information. I delved into my long forgotten stats, amazed by what I saw. Firstly, it would seem I have more than 3 viewers. It’s actually more like twenty. That caught me by surprise. Also, this site had over 80 hits this month. Also a shock. But it was what follows that was the most surprising.

I have this thing called “keyword analysis”. It keeps track of what keywords are used to reach my site from search engines. Observe the craziness:

Now now, I know what you’re thinking, it struck me too. While appaling in nature, I can be sure that these Dean Cain fan clubs don’t exist. In the case that I am wrong, I will take all measures to ensure their destruction. Now onto to the less pressing issue.

TANYA HARDING SEX TAPES? Okay, two questions: 1) Why did it come up with my site for this search? 2) WHO THE HELL SEARCHES FOR TANYA HARDING SEX TAPES?! This is absolutely ridiculous! And what gets me is that they actually entered my site looking for these sex tapes. These deranged lunatics, looking for loony figure skaters getting nailed on a blog about ninjas. That’s what I find hilarious.

Weirdo: Hmm.. the first 81 pages of search results didn’t show anything, but Eldor the Space Monkey has a good feeling about page 82!

Computer: Look! I have normal sites! This one is about figure skating! This one here is about self help tapes! I highly reccomend this one!

Weirdo: Ooooh! Ninjas! That sounds kinky!

Computer: I hate you so much.

Also, what the hell does “word association of ninjas against pirates” mean? Is it some psychological profiling dealy? Some kind of word game? Was he looking for Maddox perhaps? I have no clue. All I know is that whoever actually searched for that is commanded to show up at my house so I may dub him “King of the Cheese.”

See? I still do real posts sometimes.

Okay, check this out.

Maybe I’ll never die, I’ll just keep growing younger with you. Somebody forgot to say it all. Sitting on a cornflake, sleep down in the soil. Your colleagues are in prison and your enemies enraged. When the house was standing, you’d never have believed it. This is where I be, so heavenly. At 4am the sun is up. My talent feeds my darker side yet no one will complain. How can we make you understand?
Leave your number on the locker and I’ll give you a call. Either way it’s dumb, but I’ll be there. I need a little time to wake up. I’m no stranger to this place where real life and dreams collide. That’s the record! When you don’t know yourself, try to get some rest.
A million miles from here, somewhere more familiar. I tried to make you see but you don’t want to know. What would you say if I said to you “Everything changed on a New Year’s Day”? You never lose in your razorblade shoes. Tell it to your king, tell him everything you know. Now I can’t climb the stairs.

—

This was made by putting my iPod on shuffle and taking one line from each song that came up. There is one line from 26 different songs in there, try to see how many of them you can find!

Yeah yeah, I’m lazy, I know. I’ll put up a real post later.