clock-blocked

This is, like, the first time I've, like, posted with checking when the last post was. Like, it doesn't feel any different but, like, it is. Because I like to liken things to likely events of likelihood. Ok, so like, I'm gonna stop saying that word that begins with "ell" and ends in tears.

Alright, lets move on to the real part of this text-adventure. No no, not that type of text adventure. Back ye basement geeks! Thar be naught but insanity in these parts. Where was I? Or more importantly, where wasn't I? Oh! I wasn't on a boat checking out a possible new career, that's for sure. I am serious. I went to bed at aboot 2am last mornight. I had to be awake at aboot 6:30am, so I could be at the wharf by 7:30. Of course I ended up 15 minutes late, courtesy of my extensive face-shaving and one-quarter-awake shower. Good times.

Anywayzzzzz, I congress... or digress. Whatever. From there I packed my posessions into a small Nike(TM) bag and was off like a squid in the sun. It was raining. On the way I thought about believable excuses for being late that didn't involve parents, animals or strangely coloured fruit. I decided to go with "I was born late and am forever doomed to defy the time-keeping tools of man."
I also decided to put my socks on at a red light, which didn't turn out so well after I stalled the car.

Naturally, or unnaturally, I ended up at "the place" where I used my observation skills to discover "E" wharf. Of course it was far down the opposite end, because apparently the alphabet goes EDCBA (Try and pronounce it as a word... Heh.) from right to left. My next challenge was to find a boat called "Ecstasea." Turns out, it was humble little yacht and nobody was there. So, I had 4 hours sleep (actually less, because I swear I saw every hour on the clock), drove in the rain, stalled the car, walked in the rain, all to see a boat that was really. Quite. Devoid of human activity. Kick arse.

The moral of this story: When it comes to anything boat related and it's raining, assume the skipper is getting drunk in some sleazy bar. Less disappointment. Also, no putting socks on at a red light. Or stockings. Although if you try it (and are female) do not hesitate to send a video tape into pervert@probablyinjail.com

Now, all day and night I have had an insatiable hunger for, uh, food. Wait, that's not really worthy of being put in, because it's an afterthough. I could go back and delete it now, followed by this and the last, but... I... just... can't... do it. And in other news, I got a haircut. So I look neat and tidy.

"You're an artist and I am your masterpiece!" I said to the hairdresser, who wasn't busty or super hot, much to my disappointment, even though I knew who was cutting my hair. Hm. Maybe I should have joined the lady passed out on the table out the front of the shop next door. I'm sure she had alot to say.

And so, it is 12:38am, I am too tired to even feel tired and I'm not sure anything I say/type makes any sense. Well it does, but I'm still not sure. I think. Holy shit, there goes a llama!

Ciao now and take a bow. Ok, that was so lame I'm going to cry and laugh at myself crying.