January 1st, 2010

Mark!

Memento Deus: Best of 2009

Simon: Well, my goodness. My sister is getting married.
Chewy: Does this mean we'll get to see you in a tux?!
Simon: Maybe even with my hair brushed :3

Is there such a thing as a fetish for being stalked?

The girl of my dreams is some sort of automaton, like a Cylon or something, only with the anti-human rebellious streak replaced with a simple OFF switch and most of the deadly weapon training programs removed in favour of more useful skills (#include { cookEggs (scrambled); })

In amid the t-shirts with wolves on and giant fake wooden arrowheads with pictures of wolves and paintings of a wolf looking at what might've been Mother Nature who in turn was holding a wolf cub (or maybe she was just some chick stealin' a cub and the wolf was like "hey don't take my cub bitch!" but for all I could tell she might've been the Virgin Mary) there was a whole bin full of coonskin caps. This triggered a nostalgic twinge in me that I hadn't felt since I was eleven years old.

Tim manages to sputter once before collapsing onto the floor. "Who told you... I had a girlfriend?"

Sex must happen in some bizarre location (canoe, igloo, abandoned Afghanistani prison camp) and performed clinically: swift incision, no-nonsense insertion, patch up the scars, and send the bill to the provincial medicare board.

>implying the Red Wings are 'overrated' because they're in a 3-3-2 slump, even though they've been the most consistently good team for the last decade

This is the story that you wish was your life.

Take it away, Dashboard Snake!

Casey: Scotts are my people, and a great people at that. People tell me I look Scottish, high cheekbones and all.
Simon: haha my people stole curling from your people :D

I trusted them, I think to myself. They said the moon wasn't really following me.

People love a good historical anecdote.

Secret Agent Wolf

Whenever someone asks me, "do you want a medal?" I say yes, and I'm genuinely disappointed to discover they were joking.

Steve Miller has no idea where the fuck he's going.

Just another six months until I'm addicted to crack.

When Selig popped up to hand out the medals afterwards, I yelled "it's the cryptkeeper! Thanks for watching our base-ghoul game!" My old man gave me an unimpressed look.

"Bill, we're the Wyld Stallyns, the most righteous band in the universe! We'll take care of these kids with rock and roll!"

You'll notice I've altered the methodology slightly. This is because my head is broken.

Here I am trying not to ask the higher powers for anything special in case I cause earthquakes, and a friend of mine whom I don't believe has set foot in a synagogue since his bar mitzvah is invoking the lord almighty to spur me into humanitarian action.

jesus table flip

Hey I think I'm pon farring it up in here, can you swing by and give me a backrub or something so my emotions don't explode or whatever?

Simon: Today's exercise: bonus points to whoever provides the best tl;dr of the preceding wall of text.
Liar: tl;dr tl;dr tl;dr simonbob.livejournal.com, babies

"Aww, yee. Lighting Bobby Rocketpunch is ready to pick up some ladies."

Lufia 2: Rise of the Sinistrals, which I assume ends the same way the first game started, with the main character and his MILF girlfriend plummeting to their deaths after beating the big baddies.

"I am so mad that there's no Starfox game for the Wii!"
"Okay, man, don't drop your waffles."

Bianca is somebody's ex-girlfriend and she does not like clocks.

I lived through eighty percent of high school by clinging to my concrete, perhaps fervent belief that someday it would end, I would get to college, and everything would change. Two out of three wasn't bad in those days.

If it were written as a straight history instead of a counter-narrative, the reader would be aware that the turret was set on a planet full of genocidal fascists. Wouldn't be so chuffed then, right?

That's the problem: the fucking daylight savings bullshit nutjob conspiracy. (Or FDSBNC for short.)

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If you're hungry enough and your friends are good enough, they should be happy to help you out. Ordinary cannibal guilt goes right out the window.