The world, my friends, is divided into good ideas and bad ideas. Here is a foolproof plan to make sure you never do anything you might regret.

Firstly, you should identify everything that is a bad idea. Any confessions of brotherly love, for example, are almost invariably bad ideas. Anything involving automobiles and inebriation could also be interpreted as such. For example, 'let's drive to Milwaukee because we're drunk!' is a bad idea. Talking to anyone you're vaguely interested in romantically while fucked up is also, so to speak, a bad idea. There are several bad ideas. Once you realise that there is a good chance you might get 'fucked up' in a given period of time, it is a good, note, GOOD, idea, to realise that you are slightly fucked up and should not do anything on your 'list of bad ideas list,' because that would suck, and you would potentially regret it.

What more is there to say about bad ideas? Oh yes - writing on your blog, especially when a little drunk, is generally speaking, a prime example of a 'bad idea'. With that thought, I bid you, my long-suffering audience, goodnight. Goodnight!

Continuing adventures of the Druce

Evan likes his computer games, especially Sims Online. He says it's the whole escapism thing that draws him in. In the world of Sims Online, Evan gets to be Mr. Martineau, also known as "hey sexy". It is good fun. Spring break for Evan means a relaxing time in Jersey (with the occasional trip to the big city), with lots of sleep, sims, and sunshine (Mario Sunshine, that is). Evan likes his holidays.

It wasn't a bad quarter for Evan - people finally started opening up to him in a lot of ways. It seemed that, at long last, people had finally recognised Evan as a person worth talking to, instead of mistaking him for a creepy stalker. The beer fridge in his room was going well, too, even if his roommate had a tendency to empty it just a little too fast. All in all, it had been a triumphant quarter for Evan.

Evan sat in front of his computer, after another exciting day of Sims online. A message came in from his roommate. Spending spring break in LA with those crazy girls from the first floor sounded like an awesome idea. Evan could tell his roommate was having a blast. Still, there was no reason to be jealous; after all, spring break was beginning, and there would always be video games.

I pressed control-C on this stupid iMac and it ate everything I wrote.

Apples suck my balls.

Life and times of the Druce, part 1

Today was a good day for Evan. It was nice and sunny and he was sleeping, as he always does, till his roommate woke him up rudely for lunch. Ignoring his roommate, Evan went back to sleep. He's just lazy like that sometimes. Seeing as to the fact that it was nice and sunny out, though, Evan decided to take a walk. He ran into his roommate studying with a couple of girls and decided to join in the fun. All in all, it was a pleasant experience, but Evan didn't really get much work done. He finished Othello, though, so that was a bit of an achievement. Evan still has a hum paper to write, but that doesn't really faze him. He spent the night getting drunk, then playing some quality Mario Sunshine.

As he went to sleep, Evan couldn't stop laughing to himself. It was just that good a day. 'I don't know what I'm saying,' he said as he rolled over and passed out. Another day in the life and times of the Druce.

Nobody is saying anything to me. This is very saddening.

Anyhow, I spent all of today reading about how P.O.D. is all satanic and rastafarianism is the work of the devil. There's something about ultra-conservative Christianity that amuses me, slightly. I sometimes wonder if I'm not all that good a Christian, what with all my recreational substance abuse and all, but all this soul searching is boring and tedious, and hardly funky and fresh.

Facts about your mom:
1. She is fat.
2. She is ugly.
3. She enjoys sex with fat white boys named Bob.

Due to my dual lack of morality and discipline, I'm left at 3.30 am on a monday morning, with an essay and two overdue pieces of japanese homework to get through. This really sucks, it really, really does. There are no words. I feel a huge wave of general inability to do ANYTHING coming on. I'm fucked this time, I really am. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Alright, now that that outburst is done with, it's time to finish my shit. Later.