The Obscure

It happens every few months. I put in an album from a genre I haven't heard in a long time, listen to it a little bit. And suddenly the world is a better place, everyone has a puppy--communism only exists in fairy tales, and everywhere, EVERYWHERE, people are dancing the La Coca Bongo.
What a thing to come from "Nevermind the Bullocks", eh?

How is everyone doing this fine morning? I am ok, but it is the shining beacon of Ok-titude. I am the epitome of emotional luke-warm-ness today. Which is better than usual, when I am less than ok. Or at least not as high a degree of ok, though still ok in definition.
Today though, I'm ok. Things are alright with the world, and for once in my brief, grocery store reciept-collecting life, I do not fear the iron curtain.

Tell you one thing though, geometry isn't a very fun class. I think I may have ADD after all, like all the shrinks said when I was younger, cause I tell you I cannot concentrate on NUFFIN. My history teacher just kinda says, "Yeah, read the book." to me, and then I pass the tests, but my geometry teacher keeps on trying to catch me not paying attention by asking me the answers to questions in class. And she catches me every time, because I am NEVER paying attention. Such is life, my life as John Colon, as I like to refer to myself.

Taylor stayed over last night. I shot him in the leg, then he broke an empty rum bottle and came at me with it, and I was forced to drop my TV on his thumb (a punishment hitherto reserved only for that rat bastard Tim). Howling in pain, he hurled his severed thumb at me; it reacted with the anti-thumb warpaint I was wearing, and the entire house erupted into flames.*

*some dramatization for the sake of entertainment

Welpity welp, methinks I shall hit the showers now, champ. Talk to y'all later.