Readership count: 1.

So I recently found out that someone does read my blog. Which means that I can no longer talk about 10 year old chicks being hot, because I am going to get shit for doing so from my friends. Luckily for you pedophile reading, I can still talk about the hot 8 year olds. Which happen to walk by the benches I sit at on the second Thursday of every month at about 12:50 PM. I'm kidding, they actually walk by every Thursday.

So one of the big things in my life, is that I went to this hip-hop underground event, called Trip The Lights. Which was fricken awesome. But I only got to stay until 11. Then my ride came, and I had to go home. But I got to hang out with these really awesome people. I hung out with EK, Opposite, TKO, Obese Jesus in the green room. met big mox. all these awesome dudes from hiphop underground, these guys are sick. But we were there for a beat battle. Which was hosted by Kavet, this really chill dude. and so, it was hosted at rRed Elephant, which is an awesome place to hold an event. just saying. I was supposed to go up and perform 5 minutes actually, but my mom said it "wasn't part of the deal" so I had to go home.

holy crap. okay, I just watched two girls one cup. which is disturbing in its own right. don't watch that. was looking for BME Olympics on google. on the second page, there was a link to freak pics. and on it are the most disgusting vile pictures I have ever seen. I am normally someone with a fairly decent stomach for vulgar and disgusting thinks, but that absolutely topped them all. ugh. I don't know whether or not I should give the link. I will not, but holy crap, I still have a headache from how screwed up I am.

Anyways, I think I shall launch into a Brian-esque post where I talk about random shit. *pause* wait for it. Here it goes. I have a box of powerbars. Powerbars are tasty, and flavorless. An enigma, like Ray Charles. I'm not sure how this fits, but I'm running with it. After I run, I eat powerbars. Sorry, something was flashing in the background, and it was distracting me. Much like it does in real life. I have a lot of hair. On my head. And pretty much only on my head. And I am going to make this blog extra long, to spite my only reader. Ha, I can make them longer. I'm not very good at spite-ing. When I first typed that, I said spiting. Which I thought looked too much like spitting, so I decided to spell it that way. Oh, for those (three?) people actually reading, if you would like to be talked about in the third person, without me revealing your identity, because you may or probably would be ashamed if anyone knew you read this blog, leave me a message, and I can talk about you, or pretend to talk about you while actually talking about someone else. Or not. I'd rather you not, because I would like to be able to talk about porn on this blog every once in a while. So the reader who I know reads this, can you not anymore? Because then it would be awkward. Although I suppose you have guessed I watch porn, occasionally. Not really, okay maybe sometimes, every two months, every week, every day, every hour (I have no idea how), every minute.

Silence.

See what happens, when you mention PORN. For some reason, I feel obligated to mention nerds now. I was actually discussing nerds with a female friend of mine, who mentioned that she swallows. Good ole willy wonka. I felt somewhat horny. But coming back reading it, I have to start talking about something else. Umm I think every person in the universe, no america, should get high at least once. Just because I said so. Did you know that the average number of limbs a person has below 4. Well, the mean at least. The median is still 4, but the avg is lower. Just saying. I think sleep causes the brain to do stupid things. like not wear condoms? that doesn't make sense brain. I feel like a train wreck waiting to happen. i wonder if the fbi looks at people's blogs, and for certain phrases like JOHN CHO, OSAMA BIN LADEN TOLD ME THAT WE ARE BOMBING SIX FLAGS, better known as the MAGIC MOUNTAIN SUICIDE BOMBER plan. If so, hi FBI guy.

Anyways, I am tired.
Dead tired.
Like amazingly tired for a mountain hiker.
Bomber. Sleeping.
tired. absolute messes.
a chick needs her space.
always on weekends, and... always.
yawn. touche I go to bed.