Yeah my stomach hurts but I didn’t come here to bitch about my tummy ache. I came here to report the most bizzarre-o, random thing that has ever really happened in my life, to date. And no, this has nothing to do with The Danny.
Last night, as I was leaving Goodlife, I was telling my mom how Jesse was making me a duct tape wallet, to replace the one that was lost forever. At least that was how I declared it. So anyway, I’m explaining to her why this wallet, this particular wallet, was so important to me. Aside from all the ID I had in my wallet and now having to replace it and all that glory, it was a gift from Kent. Yeah it was a ratty old wallet, but it was from Kent, who was really the only nice boss I’ve ever had. Cut out the part of the story where he threw it at my head when I told him not to throw it out, and the story is really quite nice. Now where was I? Oh yes. Anyway, I’m talking to my mom about my wallet and we get to the car. I look in the back seat and TAH DAH! There was my wallet, lying face down smack dab in the middle of the backseat. It wasn’t there that morning, because I had sat there on my way into town. And it wasn’t in my mother’s car when I ransacked it three times in search of my wallet. But there it was, plain as day, in the back seat. Not one thing was missing, and I swear on The Danny that it was NOT in that car when I looked through it. So where did it come from? How did my wallet get there, when it wasn’t there hours before? It boggles my mind but I’m just happy that my wallet is back.
I’m going to start my own…"business" if you can call it that. I’m going to make hemp bracelets and hopefully sell them. I know I’ll be able to manage if I can get my shit online. I’ve been scouting out the best places to have an online store and I found two that I don’t have to pay for, which works out really well for me. Once my shit starts selling, I’ll get one of the ones people pay for, so I can spread the word even more. I should also probably stop calling my product "my shit" because I doubt that appeals to the general public. If I have to name my store, I will name it The Shasta’s…something. Something with "The Shasta" because it’s my new name. ANYWAY, enough rambling. I didn’t realize before how crazy it would be to run an online store. I have to figure out all these shipping costs, and currency conversions and how much work I out into each bracelet. It was so overwhelming I had to go out and buy a notebook so I could start documenting all my bracelet making moves. It was also just an excuse to go out and buy a notebook. I love notebooks. I shouldn’t forget to do all the math and stuff for currency conversions and…ugh.
Alright and one last thing: THE WALL THAT BLOCKS MY SERIAL KILLER STORY FROM GETTING OUT. That wall is called inferior knowledge of serial killers. Probably a good thing that I don’t know a whole lot about the mind of a psychopath. I just don’t know how to BE Brent. Although people would beg to differ. From what I’ve written so far, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that I know what’s going on inside his mind. He doesn’t see it as a wrong. He sees it as unleashing the next great American novel on the world. So I think he’s going to…I can’t give away the ending for you. THIS will be the next great Canadian novel! It will be translated into every language and sold in every country of the world! Well maybe not every country because I don’t think Third World countries have the luxuray of awesome books. That makes me SO sad. Not because they’ll never read my books. But because they’ll never really read any books. The majority-I DON’T WANT TO GET INTO THIS RIGHT NOW! How do you go from serial killers to Third World countries? Oh yes. Publishing the next great novel. I’m tellin’ ya, it will be awesome. It will be a movie and Cillian Murphy will play Brent becuse Cillian Murphy looks like a suave, sophisticated serial killer. None of this Christian Bale b.s. Mainly because Christian Bale scared the shit out of me as Patrick Bateman. Just because…you never know WHO could be thinking about eviscerating you and eating your spleen (oh Hannibal Lectar). It’s a very unsettling thought. I mean…one of my friends could grow up to be a psycho. I COULD GROW UP TO BE A PSYCHO! Althought I’d rather die before eating any part of a human being. But still. I think it would be a lot creepier if one of my exes turned out to be a serial killer, mainly because they were my ex. *coughs* Donnie *coughs* Nothing personal towards Donnie. I picked him because he was my first boyfriend and now he’s…working at Pantorama. But then again, it’s not like he had decapitated squirrels in his room or around his house. OK I need to stop talking about this. The point I was trying to make, way back at the start of the paragraph, is that I need to finish my serial killer book before I start writing about Brent and Lilith.
Today’s Random Chuck Norris fact: Chuck Norris’s girlfriend once asked him how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He then shouted, "HOW DARE YOU RHYME IN THE PRESENCE OF CHUCK NORRIS!" and ripped out her throat. Holding his girlfriend’s bloody throat in his hand he bellowed, "Don’t fuck with Chuck!" Two years and five months later he realized the irony of this statement and laughed so hard that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.
ps. Jesse is The Awesome
ps. my tummy is better.
ps. I’m going to buy a spare wallet that is awesome.