Still not too old

Today marks a very important day in my life, because it's the 365th-to-last day I'll be able to pawn car-renting responsibilities off on someone else.  I mean, obviously I'll still be lazy as balls and make other people do it for me years from now, but this is the last year I can do that without anyone suspecting I'm lazy as balls.

So eat my ass and rent me a car, turds.  I'm 24!

I'm even olderer

I'm getting pretty wise in my old age.  Wise and enigmatic.

For example, here are a few things I have tweeted recently:

Nobody likes you when you're 23.  Except the Twitterverse.  Follow me, bitches.

P.S.

I'm even older

I'm 22 now! Ugh. I'm a week late because I was too busy nostalgia-creeping on Sally's wall to be reminded of my birthday on my own.

In gym we had a health class about sugar. I murdered the sugar content quiz. Murdererrdr.

I'm older

I've been pretty busy obsessing over tournament stats and working on my rap career, so I haven't posted in a while, but today, I'm feeling philosophical.

Birthday. What is a birthday? A combination of two one-syllabled words, one a noun, and the other a noun that serves as an adjective. I like birthdays all right. But you know what I like more? Horsemeat. Nutrage. Spacedong. Those are some classy words.

One more classy word: shotgun. It's time for me to go do that to some shitty beer. Happy 21st, me!

Don't call it a comeback.

Mission: accomplished

I'm still uncomfortably headachey. That's right, bitches, it's been 24 hours plus a 3-hour practice. I do what I say and I say what I do. Plus, Dan cleaned the sink. I'm the man!

There's still puke in our sink

It smells like ass in there. Where's Connie? I'm not cleaning it up.

So far so good

I'm uncomfortably headachey. Also, someone puked in our sink last night. Ugh.