Author: Scoutmastertoad

anniex0r: i quit going to your site when i quit thinking about you.

^^ i’m going to put that on a t-shirt ^^

scoutMASTERtoad: hahahaha

scoutMASTERtoad: thats what i wanted 🙂
anniex0r: like if you’re not in my life, what the fuck do i care about how drunk you got last night… and the night before… and “wow, driving is an adventure” … oooookay.

scoutMASTERtoad: haha driving is a adventure

anniex0r: i mean, seriously, does anyone go to your site that doesn’t know you? or hasn’t met you? i mean, is anyone entertained? …are the few people that know you even entertained?

anniex0r: i don’t get it.

scoutMASTERtoad: newp probably not

scoutMASTERtoad: yeah i know

scoutMASTERtoad: get so many hits tho

scoutMASTERtoad: just from drunk people i’ve met at bars

scoutMASTERtoad: and the growing aim list

scoutMASTERtoad: of poor people that have ran into me

scoutMASTERtoad: you can’t stop us, not you or your robots

go out and buy the new NIN

THERE IS NO YOU

THERE IS ONLY ME

http://crackhore.com/sup/

it’s not a good burn either.

it’s noon. i hate noon. i hate everything before 4pm. what the fuck was i thinking when i agreed to meet at noon. i had to have been drunk, only excuse for a fuck up like this.

im going to make a little pamphlet to hand to clients on “mornings”. it’s gonna have huge bold verdana text at the top and say WHY IS MY WEB DESIGNER SHAKING AND CAN’T TALK? Like just a few paragraphs on alcohol, make some stock photography of jug wine and me laying face down on my keyboard.

i feel so not happy. im so glad no one died on the way here. i need to make this meeting as fast as possible and get home to the dark happiness im used to at fucking 12 o clock.

i can’t even explain it. i just hate your time of the day so much that im just sitting at Otherlands, shaking my head and typing. just so fucking not happy. I swear of this chick doesn’t show up for the meeting, i might kill her. no, no i would never kill anyone. i might be upset tho. actually i can defientely gurantee upset if she doesn’t show up.

there is a cop here. i saw his car out front so i knew he was going to be here. he looks like he’s meeting with his mom.

none of the cops that follow me wear uniforms.

the whole dying on the cross. that was hardcore. i’m sure it didn’t go exactly down like they said but even if a little of it is true, pretty hardcore.

our friend ripper said he was hardcore, and well, you’re hardcore too, jesus.

wow i think ive gotten off to a good start to this update.

okay lets break it down.

jesus fucking hates you. the new pope wants to molest you. i probably do too. this isn’t going to turn out okay. we have a pope that used to be in the nazi youth. yeah, he said he wasn’t “with it” but he still knows how it “works” and might “use” it in his “religion”.

blah, maybe people in africa shouldn’t use condoms and the nazi pope is what “we” need. Screw it, stupid church, open up your vaults and tell me where jesus’s kids are and we can talk about who is going to run our church, k?

lovingly yours

scout fucking master toad
church of crackhore

last night i was driving to a bar(whoa another surprise update). I was going down McLean heading towards vance. Right after we go past Union, it goes down to 1 lane as McLean goes into the residential area.

Now right when it comes to 1 lane, me and the 9 other cars in front and behind me start to wonder why we are going 5 miles an hour in a 30. Now I’m kind of in a hurry to get drinking. After we pass another street this asshole with a flat tire could have turned on, i get upset.

Now it might have been the NIN or something but I feel it makes me feel better to vent my frustrations by screaming and punching the steering wheel.

It’s better then smoking.

Anyway, I get to Vance and my phone rings. It’s good ole Merritt.

Hey Merritt, whats up?

Was that you?

Was that me where?

On McLean.

Yeah what the fuck was up with that?

Apparently Merritt and her mom were sitting in the front room of their house when they heard the fwapping sound of the flat tire. She got up and looked out the window and see’s a white del sol. Then she hears me screaming FUCKING DRIVE YOUR PIECE OF SHIT!! Merritt’s mom recognized my screaming and asked Merritt if it was me.

Went out to my new liquor store out in Cordova yesterday. (Surprise) This place is kinda new to meet so they are still getting used to seeing me once or twice a week.

I stroll back to the back, grab my jug of wine and head up to the counter. The old woman who’s sold to me a few times goes “oh wow, another jug of wine huh?”. I shake my head, “No, not wine, web design juice”. She stares. I explain to her that 1 jug of wine is equal to about 2-3 hours of web design. She asks how much a website would cost for their store. I tell her roughly 30 jugs, if she wants a good one.

At this point i notice their distributor is there and he stops unloading boxes and listens to us talk. He’s a big burly old guy, white beard, looks like he runs a business that sells to liquor stores.

On the way out, he wheels past me and we start talking about sites. He tells me that he uses Dreamweaver. Doesn’t everyone now. I was expecting to hear Frontpage. He says he does sites for friends but probably no where near as someone who does it for a living. I turn to his truck and go “well, you have the wine for it, all you need is some NIN.”

i feel a little sad in that fact. i’m not very special. just someone with wine and a bunch of mp3s. not a tough formula.

god i’ll never get guys who are really into putting cream on their face and really into cologne, etc……it goes tooth brush, tooth paste, deodorant, razor, shaving cream, comb, nail clippers….

every other product is for a female and if you’re a guy you have bought into marketing and advertising……

strikes down upon us again. huge storm a day ago, next day the power goes out for 4 hours.

talk about a boring 4 hours. i got a lot done surpsingly tho. you’d be surprised how distracted you are from “work” when you have the internet, even when you make websites.

anyway, last week really hurt me. after a good night of sleep and a few good meals, you look back like “okay, this next week, im going be a better worker”. then you realize you had a conversation exactly like this last week. and probably the week before.

im eating some chicken. 2nd piece of chicken i’ve ate today. body is starting to break down. im wearing a bright orange autozone shirt and a yellow trucker hat, tilted to the side. really not looking like a winner.

it’s 3am and im pacing back and forth in the computer room, clutching the piece of chicken like i had just slayed it, just pacing back and forth.

steve walks into the kitchen and sees me and i see him.

he said i look like i just got caught masturbating.

god im going to bed, what the fuck is wrong with me.