Cries From the Night...Screen Door Battle

It's a funny thing...no...I take that back. It's not funny at all. But here goes anyway...

Sometimes I've got nothing really new to say at all. My schedule right now is, "Work, Booze, Rehearsal, Tears, Fears, Sleep, Wake Up, Work, Booze, Rehearsal, Tears, Fears, Sleep, Wake Up..." and on and on until I'm nothing but an empty shell of a clam.

But I did have an idea today. Some time, during the course of my life, I would like to have the ability to say:

"Guards! Seize him!"

Because, that's all guards are good for anyway. If you'll notice, guards will never protect you...or notice when your base has been infiltrated...or aim their weapons effectively. But, this is the one command that guards will always get right. Always.

That's it for now. Join us for our next installment, where we will plot the death of American Idol Top-Ten Finalist Matthew Rogers. And maybe I'll be able to holla' something worth reading at y'all....

I...have...created...a...MONSTER!!!

Boy, you know when you get one of those really good ideas? Y'know...the kind that grab you around the trident (if you're carrying a trident) and shake you until your hands turn into butter?

Well, Memories was (and still is) a good idea...but I fear that my dear, dear, friends who are currently without memories are either thinking, "Boy, does he even know my damn name?" Or "That's it, I'm calling the cops on this guy. He's stolen his last Mazda from me...."

But for all y'all out there who give a damn, let me set the record straight. You'll get your stinkin' memories...they will give you some damn joy...you will get that warm feeling in your stomach that could either be excitement or rage or ulcers...and you will titter...and...it...will...be...GLORIOUS! But daddy gots to work, babies...and until the lovely network administrators in my building allow me to access MySpace at work (Dating? Really? That's the reason you block this site? Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Administrator...the only date I've been on is with a lovely lady named "Blog," who treated me the way I deserve to be treated -- like Randy "The Macho Man" Savage), I gots to use what time the great Lord gives me. That's Lord Ninnyfanny III, Duke of Essexshire. And he's a very busy man.

So, the long and the short of it is, you'll get your memories all. They're all there in my increasingly-more-visible pate. But the only MySpace visits that I have had time for are uploading the amazing Mr. T/Me photoshop that big Smoov made for me (that's my nickname for you Matthias...I hope you cherish it), and to see if any more of my enemies from Inglemoor pop up. I must track them...they can smell fear...I mean fur...I mean flair. They can smell flair, and I have several spoonfulls of that at my disposal at all times.

See what happens when I say, "Hey Tyler, you should post a blog apologizing to all the people you haven't got to yet in your memory project." God...something is seriously wrong with this young man right here...I need to go to bed...