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Monday, January 28th, 2008
6:29 pm
I got a divorce today.

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Tuesday, December 4th, 2007
6:31 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Monday, November 19th, 2007
8:28 pm
Nothing happened today, or that other day.

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Saturday, October 27th, 2007
10:02 pm
Nothing happened today.

But something is happening...?

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Thursday, October 4th, 2007
10:13 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Friday, August 17th, 2007
1:47 pm
Nothing happened yesterday.

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Wednesday, June 13th, 2007
2:51 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Wednesday, May 30th, 2007
7:58 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Sunday, May 13th, 2007
1:21 am
Nothing happened today.

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Thursday, April 26th, 2007
11:15 pm
Nothing happened today.

EDIT: Except that

current mood: high

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Friday, April 13th, 2007
11:36 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Saturday, March 24th, 2007
6:03 pm
I ate Chinese food today.

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Wednesday, March 7th, 2007
9:03 pm
Nothing happened today.

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Friday, February 23rd, 2007
4:13 pm
I made a comic todayCollapse )

current mood: artistic

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Wednesday, January 31st, 2007
4:52 pm
Nothing happened today.

EDIT: Because I talked to Nicole, I got pot today.

current mood: irritated

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Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007
5:37 am
Nothing happened today.

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Tuesday, December 5th, 2006
8:20 pm
Scrabble Fanfiction

It was a bright and temperate day inside the living room of Mr. and Mrs. Charleston. The tables were set: it was time to play some Scrabble.
Mr. Charleston randomly took his letters out of the bag: F-E-A-I-E-I-I.
"Dammit!" Mr. Charleston said. He hit the table with a closed fist and begun to grind his teeth.
Mrs. Charleston randomly took her letters out of the bag: G-O-B-M-T-I-A.
"Hmm." Mrs. Charleston hummed. She took off her glasses. It was time to play some Scrabble.
Mrs. Charleston went first. "TIMOB" she spelt on the board.
"That's not a word," said Mr. Charleston, his brow furrowed slightly. He grinded his teeth louder.
"Yes it is," said Mrs. Charleston.
"No it's not! Here, hand me the dictionary," Mr. Charleston demanded.
"We're playing No-Dictionary rules, remember?" Mrs. Charleston said softly.
"It's so not a word! Anyone will tell you that!" Mr. Charleston said, standing up. He stopped grinding his teeth because he was too busy yelling and asserting his position.
"Well, I say it is. How about rock-paper-scissors?" Mrs. Charleston asked.
"Ggggggggg fine." Mr. Charleston said. He sat down.
"Okay, here we go." Mrs. Charleston said. The two held out their closed fists.
"Rock... paper... scissors!" Mrs. Charleston said. Mr. Charleston kept his fist closed, representing the rock icon. Mrs. Charleston had her ring finger and thumb extended, her palm facing Mr. Charleston.
"What the hell is that?" Mr. Charleston asked, annoyed.
"It's a pseudoflip. I'm pseudoflipping you off. It beats everything," Mrs. Charleston said.
"That's retarded! It's called rock-paper-scissors, not rock-paper-scissors-pseudoflip!" Mr. Charleston yelled.
"It's in the rules! I didn't make it up. Go look at the rules." Mrs. Charleston said.
"Where are the rules?" Mr. Charleston asked.
"I dunno, online?" Mrs. Charleston suggested.
"What's an on-line? This is 1936 pre-WWII Germany!" Mr. Charleston said.
"Well I don't know! Do you have any ideas?" Mrs. Charleston said.
"Well, someone's got to have rules SOMEWHERE," Mr. Charleston said. "Pack your bags, we're going travelling."
"And just abandon the game?" Mrs. Charleston said. "Fine, fine, let's go."
Mr. and Mrs. Charleston gathered their clothes and some food and threw it into their car. They drove to Berlin and went to the National Hall of Rock-Paper-Scissors, except with that name in German. The building is pretty huge; three or four storeys tall and made of stone, with one of those storeys being just climbing up the stone steps and past four gargoyles to the entrance. They walked up to the entrance and knocked the doorknocker.
"Who goes there?" a deep voice asked from within.
"Uh, I'm uh Harvey Charleston, I'm here to.. ask something about the rules..." Mr. Charleston stuttered. The door opens and the two walk in. In front of them stood a very short man with a slightly hunched back, his eyes dark, silently expressing years of cynicism and despair.
"Excuse the formalities... they call me Pinkie." the man said. "What is it you seek?"
"Is there such a thing as the pseudoflip?" Mrs. Charleston asked.
"Yes," said Pinkie.
"Huh." Mr. Charleston said. "Well, I'll be." Pinkie turned to leave.
"Oh, and hey, do you know if 'Timob' is a word?" Mr. Charleston asks.
"What? No, that's stupid." Pinkie said. Mrs. Charleston chuckled, and Mr. Charleston begun to grind his teeth.

The End

current mood: bored

(1 comment | comment on this)

Friday, November 24th, 2006
1:03 am
Stratego Fanfiction

All was quiet on the front line. Marshal William T. Rutherford slowly and tastefully chewed on his cabbage, admiring its textures. Captain Johnathon K. Tailor shouted "Aggghhh!" as he died from one of Blue's Colonels.
"Major! Get out there!" the marshal shouted.
"Okay! We are moving in!" the majors shouted in unison as they all moved forward one tile.
"Ha! Got you now!" a Blue captain called from just behind the hill. "Wait a minute, you guys are majors! Acckk!" the captain said before he died.
Meanwhile, Blue Marshal Xavier F. Smith plotted. "I'll get those Reds! We'll show them not to show their ugly face on our side of the board! Ehehehe! Scouts, move out!" Xavier cackled. "Yes sir!" the scouts said in unison. They moved out.
"Wbhat are you?" one of the scouts asked Major Norris K. Kira. "Shit!" Kira yelled. "I'm a major" kira said. "Oh" the scout said. The major killed the scout. The marshal moved toward the major. The major moved away from the marshal. The marshal moved towards the major another time.
"Alright! Send in the generals!!" Red Marshal William T. Rutherford announced. The generals both moved toward the marshal. The marshal moved toward the major again. The generals moved toward the marshal, the majors away from the marshal, and the marshal towards the majors. This happened a couple more times, until the generals reached the marshal.
"Alright wise guy, what's your rank?" General Harry B. Viser asked.
"Ha! It is me, Blue Marshal Xavier F. Smith!" the marshal yelled.
"Aw crap" the general said. The general died, and the other general moved away from the marshal.
"It's time to Head On, apply directly to your asshole!" Red Marshal William T. Rutherford shouted. He moved towards Xavier. Xavier moved towards Rutherford. It went on a bit like this for a bit, until Rutherford attacked Xavier. They both died. There were only a couple more Blue pieces left, and they were a lieutenant and a couple colonels, and one of the majors died but Red found out they were colonels when Red sent the generals and they died, and by looking at which pieces were already gone.

The End

current mood: accomplished

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Saturday, November 11th, 2006
8:31 pm
What American accent do you have?
Your Result: The Midland

"You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.

The Inland North
North Central
The West
The South
Philadelphia
Boston
The Northeast
What American accent do you have?
Take More Quizzes


Otherwise, nothing happened today.

current mood: lazy

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Tuesday, September 19th, 2006
3:38 am
Nothing happened today.

current mood: bored

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