Random Crap, OF DOOOM!!  

My own little corner online, where I can hide all my belly-button lint.

I think I can stick links in here...
It appears so!
I never liked that archive crap anyway.
Maybe i should organize these into sections...
Yeah, that would be cool.

Artists to worship:
Robert Venosa
Alex Gray
M.C. Escher
Stanlislav Szukalski
Zdzislaw freaking Beksinski
Rene Magritte
Honore Fragonard (now mostly translated!)
Senor Zar
Ex-Python animator
Mr. Bird could beat up your mother AND a dinosaur
Ernst Fuchs (fyooks, you asshat)

Don't let your kids listen to:
Big Dumb Face
White/Rob Zombie
Collective Soul
Damn pretentious Canadians
Queens of the Stone Age

People with the misfortune of knowing me:
Teh w00tFr3d!!1!
Someone I don't really know but has good taste in TOOL, err, music.
My sister was dropped on her head.
The rest of my friends have too much self-respect for an online presence.

We dn't need no stikning spellchecker!

Fine, I'll archive this crap:

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So, how's everybody doing?

Today, I had a day. It wasn't just a day, it was a day where SHIT WENT DOWN!

Mostly, I worked. It's like a 7 hour shift today, which isn't that bad I guess except my job BLOWS. Otherwise, it was a decent day, people weren't bothering me with dumb questions too much thanks to my "SURLY" t-shirt and the pair of pants I had were overly baggy (so baggy, in fact, that I rarely wear them) yet comfy, making my hours of web-surfing/paperwork cozy.

Anyhow, I was doing some filing. Yes, actual work! So I had these, like, file-thingies, and I was putting them in the appropriate "cabinets". I bent over a little and the aforementioned pantaloons decided this was a good moment to remind me why I disliked wearing them so much. They did this by developing a massive tear about a foot long over my ass. I don't have an ass like Steve's, so this was rather embarassing. Did I mention this was at work, with, like, people around? People who could now see the entirety of my ass, a large portion of my thigh and my underwear preference? It was only one or two people, but that's one or two people too many.

Fucking pants. I bet they were fucking commie pants. They weren't even old, worn out or tight. They obviously lacked the moral fibre of a TRUE AMERICAN and so they couldn't handle my glorious, patriot left buttock.

So I had to leave work to go home and get another pair of pants. This time, I got a pair that wasn't part of a goddamn communist conspiracy. Most of the office-folk were amused, but gentle when I returned to the office. However, when I got back to my desk, someone had left the lyrics to this song sitting on my keyboard. I bet whoever did it was a commie. Goddamn commies and their conspiracies!

  posted by Travis @ 9:56 PM

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