Food, and womb computers

Ungh. That is a grunt, which If you would have heard out loud, you would have known that I was feeling frustrated. The reason is because I am starting to not want to write in this blog anymore. It's starting to feel more like an assignment. This is not a good thing. But the thing that IS a good thing is that I will force myself to, so if you actually DO like this blog, then I will keep writing in it. Even though I know that at this time, I have nobody that is not my direct friend that I hang out with everyday that reads these. The person that reads them the most is miller, so many Kudos to you (I'm NOT giving you a kudos).

Also, like I predicted, I am running out of things to write about except if you remember, I predicted that it would take a long time before it would happen. I had said I was a real topic filled guy. Well apparently I'm not. Bummer.

I just remembered something. Matt got a second cake (If you are confused right now, and you are thinking, second cake? What? Then you obviously didn't read all my blogs, so get to it.). I'M SO PROUD. One bad thing though, usually cakes are delicious, but this cake was not. I know what you're thinking. How can a cake taste bad? It's cake! Unless you are someone you tasted this cake, because then you are thinking; yah, that was a bad cake (ß Semicolon usage? Not sure if it is proper, I am terrible at grammar). I'm not sure how the cake tasted bad, whether it was old, or if Matt farted directly on the cake and the scent absorbed into the spongy texture of the angel food cake of which it was made, but I do know that it was so bad that he traded it to someone who didn't know for two chicken ramen. Good deal in my opinion, fart cake for delicious, delicious ramen.

That also reminds me. This weekend, my mom bought something which I had no idea existed. She came home from Sam's Club (who is Sam?) with a 36 pack of ramen. 36!! That is a butt load of ramen, and I ate many of them. Krieger thinks that having unlimited Mountain Dew and pot pie is better than unlimited ramen, and I'm not sure I can argue with that. That's food and drink. Not only that, its pot pie. Hmmm. Sadly, I think he wins. Sad face.

So far I have only talked about food. That's pretty cool. I mean REALLY COOL. RREEAALLLLYY CCOOOOLL. Mhmm, yah, whatever.

I'm chewing gum. It's red.

I don't know what to write. Ok I thought of something. To hear what he wants to say, continue on to the next paragraph.

Recently me and my friends have gotten into Age of Empires 3 or 2 ( I don't know). With the generously accepted help of miller, we connected 3 to 4 computers, depending on if Petoskey smokes or not (he has never smoked; (That's semicolon number four!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I just said that for no reason. Don't get concerned for his health.). I am really bad at real time strategy games, because my brain doesn't think that way, and because I never have before. I know that's a bad excuse, they have told me, but they all have played this game since before they were born. That's not fair to me if they were brought into this world playing on a laptop that runs on Willy-Wonka's-everlasting-nuclear-batteries-that-last-nine-months. I don't even know how they did that. That's just amazing that their mother's womb would create such technology. Anyway, they are better than me, blah blah blah. Who wants to hear that anyway?

Can you tell that I added the exclamation marks to add stuff to this? It's not cheating either. No! No it's not! Nuh-uh! Nuh-uh! Nuh-uh! Voice from the next room: SHUT UP!!!

Well I have to obey ghosts. They are more powerful than me. They could go 'whooooo' when I'm trying to sleep. And since Ghosts don't have to sleep they could do it all night (the whoo-ing, not… whatever.)

Well since I am literally saying a lot without saying anything, I'll stop here. I think I am going to try to go around to a lot of people and get funny stories from their childhood, and post them all into one super large prostate cancer-ed blog. Without prostate cancer. That would be pretty sweet.

If you are reading this at night, then goodnight. If you are reading this in the morning, then good morning. If you are reading this as you scream towards the earth at breakneck speed with a parachute strapped to you back, then stop reading and open the stupid parachute!!

Matt and the Cake

Ahh. It’s been three days since I have written anything. I totally forgot how to write the letter ‘B’. I figured it out though it out though, see? B. Haha, I did it.

On another note of write-ability before I get to the main topic, my friend Matt, bought a cake. A care bear themed cake. Well oblivious to me, it’s weird to buy a cake not on a birthday. Someone said that in my room, I’m not sure who though. This depresses me. Cake is delicious, and I don’t see any reason not to eat it for no reason, which by the way, is exactly what has Matt done. I’m proud of you Matt.
Wow. I just interrupted my interruption. How can I do that? As a matter of fact, how can anyone do anything—Wait Eric, don’t interrupt the interruption of the interruption! Bad things will happen! Too late, my nose is gone. Actually, I’m pretty sure—woa, Oscar Pretzel is gone. Mmmm, Hersheys. Crap. My leg.
ANYWAY, Matt bought a cake.

(Silence) Yep. That’s it. Naw, actually there’s more. On the cake there was a flat care bear face made out of plastic. He took it off the cake, and began licking the frosting off the back, like any normal person would do. Frosting is good, you can’t just waste it. Well, while he was licking, all of a sudden, thin red streaks appeared on the plastic.

YOU ARE NOW FREAKED OUT.

Anyway, he had cut his tongue on the sharp edge of the plastic without knowing. Painless cut, very little blood, no big deal. Good thing it was not a dinosaur themed cake, with a plastic dinosaur face on it, or else Petoskey would have been thrown into the wall by blood. He’d be standing right in the way too, I’d bet money on it.
The two contractions that I used in the previous sentence (for you lazy people; he’d and I’d) are very efficient as contractions go. Not like stupid ‘its’, which takes out an ‘I’, and replaces it with an apostrophe that’s basically two-thirds of the letter ‘I’ anyway. Who invented these? They’re stupid. Haha, I used a contraction to say that contractions are stupid. If this were a big enough blog, I would put that on a shirt and you would buy it. It would say ‘Contractions’ in big letters, and then ‘They’re Stupid’ in smaller letters below it. I think that would be pretty cool.

On another topic involving punctuation, I always want to use semi-colons (because they are half a colon), but they rarely come up. Sad face.
Now for my main topic… ok never mind (phew, I almost wrote ‘nvm’), my Brain told me that I am not allowed to write about that topic. It gave me a spanking for even thinking about it. I guess Matt and his cake changed to the main topic.
I don’t have much written in this one so I will tell you a story.
Every Christmas Eve., my family and I wake up at 4:00 in the morning, play tetris, actually put the suitcases in the back of the van, and smash ourselves in there too. Where are you going you ask? Why are you traveling on Christmas Eve.? The answer to both of those questions is none of your business.

Just kidding. We are going to travel to Minnesota to spend Christmas with my Grandma and Grandpa. The trip usually takes all day, but we’ve been on so many of these trips that we’re experts at it. All you have to do is sit, wait, and occasionally complain or shove a McDonalds burger down your throat (Don’t get your hand caught!). We usually make it in time for supper, and we greet each other, hugs, happy grunts, you know how it goes. But two years ago, this cheerful greeting did not happen. Well, not right away at least.

It started when we pulled into this gas station/restaurant/truck stop/grassy field, and went in to use the bathroom. My dad filled the gas tank, we stared at all the toys that are really stupid, over priced, and fragile, we taunted an old man when he was trying to poop, y’know, the usual road trip bathroom break. Finally when we were ready to leave, my dad noticed that the car would not start. You probably know what’s going to happen now. To make a long story short, he stayed at that gas station/restaurant/truck stop/grassy field for six hours.

We occupied our time by playing the candy crane. We figured out how to get lots of candy. Basically, the crane lets you keep going until you get at least one piece of candy. But if you get something you don’t want, you can shake the machine to make it drop the candy. Then you get another turn because you didn’t get any candy. Using this concept, you can get a lot of candy by waiting until the claw is barely above the chute, then you shake it. The candy falls into the chute, but the claw doesn’t know that you got candy, so you get another turn. Haha.

Eventually uncle came and picked us up, pulling our car on a trailer behind us.

That story was way shorter than I meant it to be, but that’s ok.

Cannibals say that the Japanese taste the best.