Piss Off

This blog has gone down hill hasn't it? It's ok to say, I know that's what you're thinking you little fuckers. In fact you're probably thinking that it's way past down hill, at the bottom of the hill, possibly even in a pit at the bottom of the hill.
Well, fickal audience, this is entirely your fault. Your expectations were too high and the pressure got to me. I couldn't keep it up. Maybe I'm having a Dave Chappelle moment, except that I'm not funny and no one offered me 50 million dollars to write jokes. But maybe I will move to Ohio like him, just to spite you guys.
Actually I'll never move to Ohio. I was out at my grandma's for Christmas this year in New Bremen, Ohio, and I literally cried 75% of the time. Thank God teardrops are saline or they would have frozen to my baby-skinned face. These were ice chest temperatures.
Ohio is a pretty miserable place in the winter, but then again so is Washington. There are few other places where it rains for 90 days straight, is always gray, always cold, and always damp. Thats the key word: damp. Fucking damp. Everything is damp. Your shoes are damp, your socks are damp, your hair is damp, your jacket is damp, your house is damp, your windows are damp, your deck is damp, the sidwalk is damp. Even the squirrels are damp. Damp.
Side note: Shout out to Zachary Z., Barry S., Hunter P., and Mike Rob for keeping the dream alive with the the "Rosarito She Said She was 18 Tour 2007." Please drink a caguama for me, I will be there in spirit.

Like of the Day: Licking your wrist 4 hours after swimming in the pool to unlock the aroma

Dislike of the Day: Whoppers (the candy, absolutely fucking disgusting)

Song of the Day: La Chinita by Manu Chao

Photo of the Day:
The man, the legend. It's a fucking classic folks.