Post #95

Holy effing shit.

And apparently, apparently, a dozen of you people read this. Why was I not told?

I mean, I think, as Walnut Creek's resident aspiring gearhead genius insane roommateless love therapist, I should be told that so many of you people read this thing. To be honest, though, I don't even know who some of you are. However, I think we can work through this and be great friends. To help all of you wonderful, well-off, intelligent people make wonderful friends, here's a mental checklist I use to make sure my friends are wonderful people:

(Make sure the answers to all these questions are "no", and you've found a friend!)

Pedophile?

Alright.

Pretty straightforward, right?

(No offense to any pedophilic members of the audience. I just don't think we'd get along too well.)

Made a cake. Getting it out of the pan and frosting it are not easy. And not fun.

I have almost nothing to post about. But I did just joyride on my moped, and it feels like its 9:30. It's 6:30. Still. What the hell, man. Winter screws my clock up.

Starting a new book, "Fool".

Been thinking, recently, about romance. Hence the cake. I'll be giving it to pretty girls. Why? Because I can. And cake is fun. Even when you wreck it. If it keeps going this way, I'm bringing a coffin to school tommorow. And it will be for the cake. I'll be holding a service at lunch, if it goes that way. If it doesn't, a dozen or so females (some hot, some I just owe cake) and maybe a dude or two (cuz as the saying goes, bro's before hoes).

Remember, children, the cake is not a lie.