2004-08-25 - 8:13 p.m.
Goddamit, I hate Brook's keyboard. I'm gonna bash him over the face with it the first thing when he gets back from Scotland. Lose the entry I've already spent an hour on, will you? You'll find out who you're fucking with, keyboard.
HOLY CRAP! I WAS GONE FOR A MONTH AND A HALF!!!!
Hey there, fucksticks! Miss me? Too bad! I'm back now (again) Someone went and got himself a life for awhile. Maybe you should try it, eh? I know you've been waiting with bated breasts to hear from me, cause your'e all pathetic, scumsucking, inbred freaks of nature and you worship the ground I walk on. Losers. Well, I'm back now.
Why now? well, it occured to me today that I'm rapidly approaching the 4 year anniversary of this tome. Yep, that's right- my first ever entry was on election night, 2000 (and it was still probably my best one- i haven't gotten better with age, just lamer) If the Evil Fucks of the Junta lose this november, I plan to archive all these entries and publish them as a book entitled "The Evil Retard Administration- A chronicle of 4 years in hell." Then I'll have a big party. And you won't be invited, no matter how much you beg. And you'll be beggin for it, you filthy little whores. You'll beg cause you like it dirty. Perverts.
HOLY CRAP! I left you guys a cliffhanger! Yeah, I did shoot myself in the face, as chronicled #HERE)!! (I would do an HTML link, but i"m too fucking lazy, and I don't love you enough to put much effort into this anyway, so click "previous" to read it and go fuck yourselves while you're at it. Get mommy to hold your hand. No, I said hand, not dildo. Morons. Emily, don't read this parenthetical, it's just too weird. And that's the last shout out your'e getting, so enjoy it)
Back? Damn. HOLY CRAP! i shot myself in the face! I'm like a white 50 Cent, only without the money or pussy. Basically I'm a really annoying ugly guy that you can't seem to off, no matter how hard you try.
If i were wej, i'd put some 50 Cent lyrics appropo to this paragraph in here, but i"m not, so I won't. I wouldn't even know where to begin. At least that last couple lines rhymed...
So basically what happened was that (Insert longwinded explanation of how a matchlock musket works that you won't bother to read anyway and I don't feel like typing, so the hell with it. Just google Matchlock Musket and read it your own) and my powder had ignited, but didn't go off right away and decided to wait to do so until the gun was an inch from my face while I was adjusting my match. Shower of sparks in my face and eyes, ouch ouch.
Yes, it hurt.
No, I wasn't injured, just surprised and a bit stung (Usually I have to be with one musket for a few weeks before it backfires in my face that way. Wait, that's women. Fucking whores.)
HOLY CRAP! I moved! And if you don't know my new address yet, it's cause I don't like you! No one likes you, not even Jesus, and he likes carrot top, so hang your head in shame!
Or...it could be cause i've been too lazy to send out my new address to all the people in my address book. My bad. But Jesus still doesnt' like you, cause you're a big fat penisweasel.
Belated thanks to Mark and Warren for helping me and Brook move on short notice. New apartment is great,I love it mroe than I love you, more than I love my country, and especially more than I love your mother, cause she should have done the right hting while she was pregnant with you- throw herself down a nice long staircase, or had someone punch her in the stomach.
Oops. I can tell you're already drifting away, remembering why you didn't miss me that much in the first place.
"Boy, I sure to wish Ken would write more often. I can't live without being constantly reminded how much I suck by some moronic, egocentric 24 year old with a budding messianic complex and a wealth of Jack Black fat jokes (He's my new bitch)"
"Oh, cool! he finally updated. Huzzah!"
2 minutes later...
"Uh...Geez, I'm tired of this asshole. I wish he'd find another rock (Fat chick) to crawl under and stay there for good this time."
And that's ok, really. For once, this one's not about you, it's about me. Well, to be fair, it's always about me, but this one is about me doing this just to do it, and knowing that someone will eventually see it, not about getting immediate attention from my audience. Plus, if I keep insulting you earwigs enough, you'll start coming back in droves. It works with sluts!
And you're all filthy little sluts. Every last one of you needs to be sent to my room.
24 year old? HOLY CRAP! I HAD A BIRTHDAY A FEW WEEKS AGO!!!!
Eh, i was sick anyway. I thought about writing something for you all, but I wanted to do something I'd enjoy.
A lot has happened, but most of it is the kind of everyday stuff that, well, I barely cared about when it was happening to me and certainly don't expect you to give a shit about (unlike you morons who keep your own journals, who seem to think that every little inane, insignificant detail of your lives needs to be documented electronically and put up for the world to enjoy. LIke I give a crap whether you've had a bad breakup, gotten new shoes, had a birthday, or moved, or shot yourself in the face accidentally. That's all crap, and no one with any taste would ever read such garbage, let alone waste everyone's time writing this pap down. When will you noncreative garbage realize that ONLY I write the kind of stuff that needs to be put down and immortalized forever? Only I, taking advantage of the anonymity and lack of accountability of the internet to vent about all sorts of things that really shouldn't bother me and insult people needlessly, all in a feeble attempt to get attention through inane guestbook signings! Kneel before me!)
Budding messianic complex? How so?
I haven't cut my hair in almost a year. Do I have to draw you a picture?
Not of that, no.
So some real crap happened to me last night, the kind I should write down. But I'm not gonna yet. Not till I can do it correctly, with introspection and appropriate yet strangely unnecessary song quotations sprinkled in.
Yep, that's right. It's gotta wait till I can completely rip off Ryukos style.
Well, it sure beats the hell out of my usual- probing the depths of lameness, recycling the same 4 jokes in different forms over and over again, and constantly trying to make up for a lack of credible content with bluster and small penis humor.
Man, I wish my penis was fat. FAT LIKE JACK BLACK!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Had enough yet? me too. I'll be back soonly, though. Maybe tomorrow, if you're lucky. It's like falling off a bicycle- already it feels like i never left!
Come back at your own risk...
Ken
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