Huh?
I noticed on my visitor tracker that a lot of recent visits came from people searching for koala swimwear, as I recently named a post after that. If you've never seen a koala swimsuit, I suggest you check it out. Do an image search on Google and make sure the safe search is off. Try searching at work, or church, or when little children are nearby and paying 100% attention to what's on the computer screen. Better yet, check it out with your mom in the room.
SCRATCH THAT! Don't do any of that stuff! If you really must see a koala swimsuit, do it when no one is around, unless you want to get fired or arrested or slapped.
That brings up something that I always wonder about sometimes: How many inside jokes do I use on this blog that only a small handful of you readers actually know? I would guess almost every post has some joke in it that only one or two of the readers he actually understand. (Right, Sniffy?)
Or for that matter, how many of you actually even care? And why would I even think that any of you would want to read about me? Seriously, I suck. I'm only mildly handsome. I can't break a 4 minute mile. I can't quite benchpress 450 lbs. I can't even hit the high F in Minnie Riperton's Loving You. I don't do anything remotely important.
With YouTube: Broadcast Yourself TM, MySpace, me.com, and Windows Live Space, everybody in the world today thinks they are special and better than average. They also think that everyone else actually cares about what they think and have to say. Fooey!
You should stop reading this right now and go outside. One day you're going to die, but right before that happens, you'll think, "Sheesh, I wish I went outside instead of thinking I cared about what Mike was always doing sometimes. I am such a numbnuts."
Actually, don't stop reading just yet. Check out this guy first. He actually is doing something important and he actually is better than average. Plus, I think he can hit that high F.
SCRATCH THAT! Don't do any of that stuff! If you really must see a koala swimsuit, do it when no one is around, unless you want to get fired or arrested or slapped.
That brings up something that I always wonder about sometimes: How many inside jokes do I use on this blog that only a small handful of you readers actually know? I would guess almost every post has some joke in it that only one or two of the readers he actually understand. (Right, Sniffy?)
Or for that matter, how many of you actually even care? And why would I even think that any of you would want to read about me? Seriously, I suck. I'm only mildly handsome. I can't break a 4 minute mile. I can't quite benchpress 450 lbs. I can't even hit the high F in Minnie Riperton's Loving You. I don't do anything remotely important.
With YouTube: Broadcast Yourself TM, MySpace, me.com, and Windows Live Space, everybody in the world today thinks they are special and better than average. They also think that everyone else actually cares about what they think and have to say. Fooey!
You should stop reading this right now and go outside. One day you're going to die, but right before that happens, you'll think, "Sheesh, I wish I went outside instead of thinking I cared about what Mike was always doing sometimes. I am such a numbnuts."
Actually, don't stop reading just yet. Check out this guy first. He actually is doing something important and he actually is better than average. Plus, I think he can hit that high F.
Labels: awesomeness, crappy stuff, my opinion, people in general, readable, useless self promoting info, what smells?, you are all turds
8 Comments:
I have seen koalas in swimwear before and it is not pretty. Did you know that koala babes do not shave their legs or pits? I think it has something to do with them being from Australia or some foreign place like that.
Austria? That's still a country?
Putting inside jokes into your blog never kills anyone. Hey you're just klowning around right?
Your right about Jason doing something good. Make sure you support his cause, because if you don't I'll find out. By the way I do care about you even if you are unbalanced.
Unbalanced? What an understatement. The only thing more unbalanced was the crankshaft in Steve's Jurassic minivan.
By the way, I just pulled my finger out of my butt and licked it. Yum!
I'm just here to clarify something. Unbalanced? It's really from Mike's father's side of the family.
No, Mom, it's from your side. Just look at your sisters...
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