written by owen

Most of the time there is always somewhere I need to go. It is always lingering somewhere in the distance like a monkey ninja waiting to throw a spear through my head. The ninjas are everywhere. No one is safe. At times I recommend that you duck for no reason. The prospect of leaving one place and heading to another is a second mortgage.

Have you ever gone out and bought something because it was a 2 for 1 and when you brought it could not find the other one. I mean it says 2 for 1 - obviously, on the packaging but for some reason I cannot find what that one other thing that makes it 2 is suppose to be. Clearly I didn't lose anything on the way home. Probably the cashier lady stole it like a magician while waving it across the sensor like a wand. Slipped in into her pocket and brought it home for her own personal pleasurement. A collection she probably has. Cheated by the opposite of love. Clearly the other thing must be there somewhere. The other thing that would validate me buying something that is almost absolutely totally useless and would not be adequate to give away as a present. It must be in it some where - hidden like those prizes in foreign corn flakes.

She hate me. Some people are born teachers while others like myself are simply addicts who amass a large amount of information while high on the weed. Though when high you really cannot transfer any knowledge to anybody unless they are pretty anxious to get high. You have to learn how to get high, its not really something they teach people. Your either born smart or you study alot.

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