“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

I've been posting here for some time now about my near death experience thing a while back and how, while on the other side I met God. More than one person has doubted me on that. I myself even wondered if perhaps my vision may have been more influenced by morphine than by the divine beyond, but despite my moments of doubt God has seen fit to reward me by proving his existence.

March 09, 2006
Paris Hilton probably has herpes

Full Article on The Superficial

If you happened to just scan over the E! Online story about Paris Hilton's latest restraining order, you might have missed this particularly interesting tidbit:

Quintana testified last month that his relationship with Hilton turned nasty after she overheard him informing her beau, Stavros Niarchos, that she might have a sexually transmitted disease.
"I wanted him to be aware of it--that she had herpes. To make sure he didn't catch anything. He informed me that he was [aware]," Quintana said.


Yeah, yeah, I know what you're saying. "Like we didn't kinda already strongly suspect that." But this is more than suspicion people. Something I prayed for has come to pass!

AH-HA-HA-HA!!! STUPID FUCKING CUNT!!!

Expect Puff Daddy to step in front of a bullet train any day now.

On an unrelated note, I forgot to mention that the night before Brian and Andrea came in I was sitting at my computer at about 4 in the morning when there came a rapping at my chamber door.

That's not too unusual, my friends stop by at all hours, but I was caught off guard to find it was someone I didn't know.

ME: "Hello?"

GUY: "Yeah, they told me up the street to come here and you'd give me something."

ME: "Huh?"

GUY: "They told me to come here and pick something up."

ME: "Who are 'they' and what are you supposed to be picking up?"

GUY: "The guys three houses up (Indicating the direction in which the cops raid a house once a week) said to come here and you'd have something for me."

ME: "Something?"

GUY: *Mumble, mumble* "Fifty" *Mumble".

ME: "Well I don't know anyone down that direction and I don't have anything for anyone. You have the wrong house."

GUY: "Well this is where they told me to go."

ME: "Be that as it may, it's still the wrong house."

GUY: "You don't know anyone around here?"

ME: "Not that it's any business of yours, but no, I don't associate with the people around here. I do, however, have the city police on speed-dial."

And with that the mysterious stranger left.

God I love it when people come here looking for people and things and argue with me when I tell them they've got the wrong house. They always say the same thing: "Well this is where they told me to go". And it's always in an accusing tone too. Like I'm lying to them. I mean, I can understand if it's a place you've been before, but to go to a house you've never been to and accuse the person living there of trying to keep you from your meth fix is a little out of line.

I need to find out who the fuck 'they' are.

Maybe God can help me out with that one. I can't complain if he doesn't though. He gave Paris Hilton herpes and that's so cool that we really can't ask any more from him.

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