i don’t believe there is such a thing called rock bottom

They talk in rehab about how one day you realize that this is it, you’ve hit the bottom. You cannot get any worse then this. Everything has been leading you up to this one lowest moment of your life. I’ve thought i’ve been there, i really thought i had. Like this is it, it’s never going to be worse then this. Like when you’re laying there on the computer room floor, your arm bleeding from self inflicted wounds, a puddle of vomit next to you that the dog is licking up, tori amos screaming at the top her of lungs from my speakers. I lay there thinking “wow this is pretty fucking sad, like this is it, i can only go up from here”.  That was a few months ago.

Now it’s 4am, i’ve only had 3 beers all day and im feeling pretty good. Only i think this really might be rock bottom. I’m watching Kevin Costner’s The Postman. It’s like i wish i was really drunk because then i’d have a excuse. Like “yeah i fucked this fat girl but…i was drunk, you know”. But i’m not. I’m barely even buzzed. Not high either.

In case you’re not familar with this excellent film, i’ll direct you to http://imdb.com/title/tt0119925/ 

I mean, Waterworld, it was okay. Had cool props, a cool plot, but goddamn, The Postman?

I guess it can only go from up here…..

IT’S PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!

So it’s 9:48pm and it’s time for peter and i to eat lunch. I tell Allen that im about to eat a peanut butter and jelly(with bannanas) sandwich. He sends me http://www.ebaumsworld.com/flash/peanutbutter.html

I walk into the kitchen with this blaring, doing the exact dance the little bananna is doing, dancing around singing along while making my sandwich. It plays and plays and plays. Peter is not pleased.  It loops over and over and im still doing my little dance while he makes his sandwich. He grows more and more annoyed.

He says “Wow, you’re like the little brother i never wanted.”

Peanut butter jelly!Peanut butter jelly!Peanut butter jelly!Peanut butter jelly!Peanut butter jelly!

Laddi Daddi… Every Fucking Body

Update from Levi:
Well… I almost died yesterday. I was riding down the road on the way back to our base and taking a sip of my delightfully diluted gatoraide when I heard a loud explosion followed by a shock wave… or the other way around (it all happened fast as shit).

Earlier in the day one of our trucks had caught on fire so we had to shut it down and tow it back to the fob… and durring transit I had heard the explosion… it was a fucking IED… one way to really fuck your day up.

What had happened was that we were driving in the dark… about midnight here in hell…. and my driver had swirved to miss an obstruction in the road (which he stated looked like a MRE (Meal Ready to Eat)) and the vehicle behind us rolled straight over it. Lucky for us… it was a pressure activated IED that blew the front passanger tire off the second HUMVEE and half the rim. The only good thing about the event is that it was very small. If we were on foot it could have killed quite a few of us.. but the thick skin of our trucks kept us safe.

I had no inital thoughts on the explosion… but as the night went on I slowly got more and more aggrivated. If the stupid fucking beebs had been doing their jobs then I would be nothing more than a shitstain on the remains of my HUMVEE. My opinion on the locals drops yet another peg.

This brings me to a new “Invention” if you will…. Beebwire (soon to be copywright protected) brings you all of the security you need in Iraq.  Beebwire consists of multiple strands of barbed wire running through… thats right… thru the corpese of disembowled Beebs!!! Pick up lengts of 50, 100, and 250 foot sections at your hometown Haji-Depot today… or even better… Make your own!!!

Peace bitches.

The Antichrist Incarnate

marlaaaaaaaaa

So i went to the house party last night. Lots of dj’s, kegs of sam adams and coors, lot sof gangstas passing blunts, etc. I meet this girl named Marla. I’m like “holy shit, you’re name is really Marla?”.  I talk to her a bit but the urge to tell her about my Marla finally takes hold. So the whole night i’m drunk and yelling Marlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Peter is laughing his ass off, im laughing. I start telling her to lay down. She walks outside of the house and i yell  “go outside! go!”.

So lol. All night long im following her around and telling her to go get a toy, lay down, do you wanna go outside, etc. Finally she refuses to even talk to me. I understand. I wish i hadn’t fucked up, could have brought her home and been like “hey this is my marla *wink*”.

I only know a few people and eventually after X amount of beers. I go outside and lean against the wall and fall deep into thought. Little do i know peter is talking to a girl and she tells him that her beer is warm. She throws the beer over shoulder, having no idea that toad is standing there. Peter looks over and im like “oh my fucking god, wtf the fuck”. Peter goes and gets her a cold beer.

I leave pretty soon afterwards, driving my deathtrap back to my shithole apartment to pass out. Good times.