Since I have no idea when Patrick is coming home, if it is today or two days from now, I might as well concede and give him back his website. This, however, does not admit defeat. On the other hand, it is with complete annihilation looming that I am surrendering. How silly and frivolous of me to think I could do such a thing and get away with it.

I took apart the vacuum. Like, completely. And all I had to do was wash out each part in warm water. Just like that, new vacuum! If, oh, let’s say computers were made like that, we’d all be travelling back and forth to Mars already. Because that’s how awesome we’d be. Terraforming the red planet and everything.

Gotta go kick a raccoon outta his temporary home. Also, to commemorate this time well spent, let us not forget the wonderful banner that I made:

Beautiful, ain’t it?

Save the best for last,
–me.

Looks like we’ve been found out, and we’re most likely going to be punished when Pat gets home. Oh well. He’s going to have his hands full with Francesco anyway. I’m not dealing with that surly raccoon again.

And apparently I forgot it was Kip’s birthday, which is a cardinal sin or something, but that means Kip is as old as me now, so sinning should be fine at this point. For him and for me. Because we’re old, or something. Older than Pat, now, but his birthday is also this month, but he doesn’t like announcing that fact, so this is probably going to be censored. Boo! Censorship for censorship’s sake! Just because he has a printing press and I don’t. Totally not fair.

And I also don’t know when he’s coming home, because he told me the eighth before he left, but I found out that Terry will be home on the tenth, and Pat was coming home with him (but not on the same flight or something), so I may get a couple more days out of it? Maybe? It would be good since I am still trying to clean up parts of the apartment, but it’s been slow going since the vacuum became a teenager, or something. It just refuses to pick up stuff. Needs a new filter, or something. But darn, if I don’t like rearranging things. Also forces you to clean up, really clean up. Or something.

Be kind to children and small animals,
–me.

Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends, we’re so glad you could attend, come inside! Come inside! Is … is that right? Well, it’s actually Emerson Lake & Palmer, but because this is the digital age I can take whatever I want and make it my own and I don’t have to credit anybody or pay a thing! Take that, stupid record companies! (Disclaimer: I’s just quotin’, yo.) (P.S., now they can’t touch me! I win!)

Anyway, it’s me again, Patrick’s roooommmmate. Not Patrick. Maybe you didn’t notice the defaced header image up there. I’m taking over for the time being. Hopefully without his knowledge still. I’m also cleaning the apartment without his knowledge, and probably without his consent, too. It’s amazing how much there is to do. There’s no way I’m living like this when I move out. Unfortunately, I’m not exactly a clean freak either, so am I to blame for letting him get away with it? Hmm, conundrum.

I was seriously considering cleaning up his room, too, just to mess with his head, or do something like rearrange it, like I like to do with my own room every now and then. But then, like, the day after he left I kept hearing somebody rummaging around in his room, and it was totally messing with my head because he was supposed to be gone, right? Turns out a raccoon has currently taken up residence in his room. He wears a bowler hat, and talks with an Indian accent, and his name is Francesco. I’m letting him stay for the time being, but he really has to be gone the day before Pat gets home. So far, though, Frankie’s made some nice changes of his own, but the room is still generally a mess, so nothing has changed, I guess.

He also hates being called Frankie. And I’m not trying to be deliberate about it, but it slips out sometimes. Sorry, raccoon dude.

Before I forget again, I have to thank my good friend Colin for turning me on to ELP. It’s just one of those things, y’know? I never really heard of them up to that point, and they’re just amazing. Thank you, Colin!

Grand Sincerities,
–me.

Hello, folks! This is not the entity known as Patrick D Ryall, oh no. This is his roommate, Marq, stepping in to wreak some havoc while he is away. I can tell you right now that this is not going to end well. All bets can be placed at our betting booth.

I realize that I may have even less to say than our lovely travelling-nation-man, but I’m trying to remedy that. Of course, I’m doing stupid stuff with my website(s) at the moment, not something that allows me to write or anything. I haven’t done the weblog thing for a good couple of years now (as long as I’ve lived with Pat now; is that a coincidence or what?). Maybe someday his constant nattering about C2! will get me to do something with that, even. But bringing it up here will only give him more fodder to shoot at me when he gets home, so I will mention it no more.

I totally thought of something even more banal to bring up when I took over, something that happened or something I looked at when I was out at Shoppers earlier, something on the current level of Pat’s “blogging”, but now I can’t remember what it was. At all. That was pretty banal. It’s so staying.

It occurs to me that once upon a time when I did the weblog thing for real, years and years ago, and I went away for the weekend, I let Pat loose on it and he just wouldn’t shut up. Seriously. Now the tables have turned! Mwah! Hah! Hah!

Love and Peaches,
–me.

I just found some website that scans websites and generates a movie-style rating for the thing. I got a “G” rating and the only negative comment was the word “gun” was used. I’m sure it only scans the words on the front page and not all the stuff I’ve posted before, but dammit, I don’t want no “G” rating. Fuck that shit. This here post is gonna knock that motherfucking rating out of the park and make it whore itself out to cannibals, fatass! Fuck yeah! Go kill a panda then smoke some crack!

I remembered one of the things that I was going to comment on during those four shitty days without the crappy site working: I read a review of the latest Indiana Jones in which the asshole reviewer complained that “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” is too long for a title. That’s a serious complaint? Now I was already someone who preferred distinct titles to stupid simple generic-sounding ones, but this is just too much. Seven syllables is too much for the masses to handle? That’s crap. And bullshit. I mean, it isn’t as though you can’t shorten it to “Kingdom” or “Crystal Skulls” or whatever you want when you’re just talking about it, so what the hell is the problem? We need everything presented to us in fucking soundbite form now? We’re really becoming a species of ass-for-brains. Aren’t we? Shit.

But in the interests of pleasing a bunch of asstarded fuckholing shitsnouts, I’ve decided to take it upon myself to kill all kinds of old movie and book titles and shit and turn them into a bunch of retarded fuckhead-friendly short titles. Here you go, assblasters:

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest = Committed
A Streetcar Named Desire = Bad Times
Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde = Dual Nature
The Silence of the Lambs = Murderers
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret = Growing Up
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance = Outlaw Killer
The Bridge on the River Kwai = Soldiers
Judgment at Nuremberg = War Trial
ET: The Extra-Terrestrial = The Phone-Homer
American History X = White Guys
To Kill A Mockingbird = Finchy!
A Midsummer Night’s Dream = Fairies!
It’s A Wonderful Life = Christmas Sucks
The Shawshank Redemption = Jail Movie
The Catcher in the Rye = Hold On, Holden
Beneath The Planet of the Apes = Monkey Caves!
Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle = Good Burgers!
The Return of the Jedi = Save Solo!
The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind = Mindfuck!

Well, that’s enough of that shit. I mean, fuck, anyone can see my point already and it’s harder than it looks. Shit.

Haiku!

Jack is a retard.
Fuck! His brain is fucking weak!
Dude can’t think ’bout shit!

It’s fucking awesome how swearing makes a post seem so much angrier than usual. Maybe this is why people fight so fucking much on the Internet. What a bunch of fucking retard shitsmelling cockbags. Maybe I should talk on some shit that actually angers me…

Now for a message to all those out there who place your own selves over everyone else. All the criminals and dictators and assholes and that shit. You cocksuckers are what is wrong with this fucking species. You think that as long as the world sucks your dick then all is Fucking Good? Well, every time you jerkoffs make someone else’s day a little fucking worse, they start to become a little more desperate to make their own lives better and they become a bit more assholey like you. It’s one of those vicious fuckin’ cycles you hear about. Some retarded douchebag wants some money, so he steals some from some poor shitstain on the street, right? Well now that shitstain needs money to feed his family and shit. And he’s all pissed because the douchebag made him a victim and he wants to validate his own ego, so he picks on someone else. The bad vibes spread and some other retarded douchebag things “Hey, this world ain’t fuckin’ fair and I gotta feed myself, I might as well steal shit.” You know? And on big scales like corrupt fucking governments and greedy bitchass corporations? Those bastards cause some real worldwide fucking bad vibes. We get fucking poor people in fucking poor countries who are jealous of the douchebags who take what they need and they want to feed themselves and make themselves not be fucking victims anymore, so they lash out with the fucking bombs and fucking guns and do murders and shit. FUCK! Can’t you douchebags get that into your fucking eyeballs or are your eyeballs covered in love juices from the giant cock of greed that you keep strokin’? Huh? Is that what it is? You guys make me sick! You’re a bunch of fucktastic, retardical shitass Neanderfuck Necrophiles! So fuck the fuck off!

There, now that that swear-filled rant is on the Internet, the world with change. Hooray.

Now let me see what rating that shitsoaked website says the Book of PDFNR gets now.