<$BlogRSDURL$> The Truth About David
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The Truth About David
Wednesday, November 30

Helllroe!

I've finaly figured out my password to fricken blogger.

Yeah, it's been that long-so what? And I guess now I should have all these wonderful stories to tell about. Stories about driving cross-country and my mother moving down the street from me and so on.

And I do.

Somewhere in this toy box of a brain. But before I go into any of that I want to talk about Brooklyn.
This is Brooklyn. Seems a unassuming mass of metropolitan sprawl, doesn't it? Well that would be the exact wrong assumption. This place is evil. Evil and bad and when I go there bad things happen to me in a evil way. I never, ever, go into Brooklyn unless someone is paying me.

Sometime a few months backs my best friend moved to Brooklyn.

Not sure why but I do know how: his girlfriend is sitting pretty on some money. She is tall and blond and drives a jag and I don't care for her. Don't get me wrong- she has never done anything even remotely wrong to me- I just plain don't like her. You know that special sometime when the moon is waxing just high enough in the sky and you meet someone and say "I don't know you from jump but I think you're a douche", like that?

That's me.

So all of a sudden he lives in Brooklyn in his house and the 'jag'. Blah blah blah...bite me. Was I just supposed to not ask questions? Questions like who the fuck is this woman, really, and when did you, ya know, move all your crap into her house? Is that what was expected of me? Because that shit is weird.

So now he asks me to come to 'the house' every fucking weekend. I am not exaggerating. It has gotten so bad that I loathe to take his calls on Friday. It amazes me he does not get it by now.

Anyway, that's my half a tale for now. More latter.

thrown together by
David Lee I Be around 10:30 AM
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