You* were right, the whole album review idea would never work. I just don't have the patience for it. I'll leave it to the "professionals" over at Rolling Stone. I think I have a mild case of ADD.

Today I glued my jeans. The button on my jeans, specifically. The button on my favourite pair of jeans, to be even more specific. It somehow snapped apart last year while I was driving. I won't go into the details about how it happened, but it happened, and I was quite traumatized. Needless to say I was pretty upset, because this sort of thing always happens to my most prized articles of clothing. In elementary school I ripped my favourite t-shirt right down the side after getting it caught on a branch while chasing my cousin through the forest, my prized pair of K-Swiss shoes were stained and ruined in high school, and just a few weeks ago a mouse chewed a hole through one of my favourite sweaters as it lay in my pile of dirty laundry in the basement. It must be karma. Anyway, so back to this button. Well, I was able to snap it back in place afterwards, but it was always rather loose and every time someone yanked at my pants in a sexual manner the button would go flying into oblivion and completely kill the mood. So yesterday I finally decided that I had enough. I went downstairs and nabbed a bottle of super glue off the shelf and glued that *bleep*er back together to avoid any embarrassing mishaps in the near future. Well imagine my surprise when I was putting on my jeans today and the button snapped right the hell off and shot across my room! I was so angry that I even threw some of my textbooks in a fit of rage! So I glued it again, and now I'm here. I haven't worn these jeans again since, and to be honest I'm quite afraid to because I don't want this God-awful button to snap off again, it's driving me mad. I don't want to replace the button altogether either, because it has sentimental value and just wouldn't feel right. This all might have something to do with the fact that they're perhaps a little tight, but I can't help it. Baggy jeans make my ass look bad so I have no choice but to go with these. In case anyone's wondering, they're a size 31.

Tomorrow I'm going to a football game with my good friend Brandon: The Compulsive Liar. He's a good guy, but it's hard to distinguish between what's fact and what's fiction whenever he says something. Oh well. See, he got me a Dolphins jersey for my birthday (one of my few friends to actually get me something, cheap bastards. In fact, I bought my friends all something on my own birthday, and they didn't get me anything!) I'm too nice. Anyhow, this jersey set him back a few hundred dollars, I'm sure, and I'm not one to not return the favour when someone does something overly generous like that. So I got him a ticket to the game with me this Sunday. Hmmmm, Sunday's in ten minutes. I'm looking forward to it, especially the Buffalo Jills. The tickets were a ripoff and probably not worth it, but I figure this is the only football game I'll ever see in my life so why the hell not? Besides, I've been going to work with Brandon for the last two weeks while the University has been on strike, so I've more than made up for the price of it. And Toni, that's why I sent you a text at 6:30 in the morning, I was waiting for Brandon to finish showering, and I was inside his house awkwardly waiting alone in the dark, so I figured there would be no better way to spend my time then to send you a surprise text message.

This is my toe. I had the sides removed last May because it was badly infected. It was the most painful experience I can recall. The freezing needles alone were pretty painful, but the fact that my toe wasn't even completely frozen made it that much worse when the doctor started ripping out my toenail. I bit into my arm, and I started bleeding. That made it even worse. And now to top it all off my toenail now looks pretty damn *bleep*. I love toes... but not my own. And not any other guy's toes, except for The Dude's in The Big Lebowski, but in my defence I thought they were a woman's feet at first.



*By "you" I mean me.


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Phil R.

  • Aurora, ON, Canada CA
  • Joined Mar 16, 2004
  • Male
  • 25 years young
  • private
  • Semi-Professional Lawn Bowler
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