I'm not sure how much longer I can last. The screams from outside the tent are growing louder now and I fear what that could mean. The weather outside is frightful, but the fire inside is simply delightful. I shall soon come close to the sun and I know not what that will mean for the screams outside.
Alright that was random and a little scary. I'm doing quite well as I atleast have the internet to keep me company. I've been heading onto lowbrow.com and perusing through the wonderful assortment of horrible stories. Here are some of them:
"That looks like good coffee," she said. "That looks like good pussy," I said.
In retrospect, probably not my best move.
In 6th grade there was a picture in one of those Magic Eye type books (stare at a picture until a image appears. It was a naked torso of a female.
I got pretty good and keeping my eyes the correct orientation to still see the picture while i jacked off to it.
Slightly drunk girls are cute.
Drunk girls are annoying.
Really drunk girls are pathetic.
Extremely drunk girls might screw me.
The Lingering DWI
You’d think I would have learned already. Rather than face my DWI, I avoided and ignored it for well-nigh two years. An arrest warrant is not something that should be taken too lightly, so I put my van in storage and biked everywhere.
My cop buddies, knowing about the arrest warrant, gave me a pass, chatting away quite happily, but if they’d ever seen me driving, things would have been quickly different.
Tired of hiding, I finally face it down. What the fuck was I hiding for? 6 months suspension and a $600 fine. I’m Scottish, so I even faked poverty and parlayed the fine into 50 hours of community work to be completed by the time my suspension finished. Utterly painless, but of course I blew off the community service.
The deadline passed, and I shortly got a letter from the city court. I didn’t bother opening it, because I knew what it said – my arrest warrant was reinstated, and my license suspension was extended until I completed my community service.
Wettest summer in history, with three hurricanes dumping 45” of rain on us. I biked through all of them. Every day when I sat down at my computer, I looked at the letter with a twinge and continued to ignore it, every day for three months.
I ripped it open five minutes ago: It was a friendly reminder that my driving suspension had ended.