At gunpoint
Monday, February 12, 2007

I normally don't post on these things but I have to now. She literally has an imaginary gun to my head 5 states away . *sigh* I'm scared for my life. I don't know what to write, so I'll write this.
There once was a man from Nentucket,
He got his foot stuck in a bucket,
He pulled and he pried,
He tried and he tried,
He finally said "Oh just... OW MY LEG!"
I really have no idea what to write. OH!! Can I have a stalker? I've always wanted one. I'll take care of it. Walk it. Feed it. Even give a place to sleep at the foot of my bed. Please? Pretty please?
Wow, ok. This is what you get when you force me to write a blog. People are going to look at this and say,
"There goes Steve. He was sane once. But then he wrote that blog."
Time to sign off and enjoy the comments. Oh I wonder what they will say. Perhaps they will tell me a way to keep the voices quiet, but I doubt it.



Tuesday, February 13, 2007 9:02 AM


Hey my friend once offered to be Bruce Campbell's stalker...sadly he declined:(

Monday, February 12, 2007 8:44 PM


That is just so random, Steve;)

Still...stalkers ain't fun. Especially when the get upset and trash your stuff like a hyper puppy:(


Monday, February 12, 2007 4:56 PM


Well, in my experience, the only way to get rid of the voices is to rub bannana cream all over you head and upper body., well, the voices told me to do that. and it worked!

Monday, February 12, 2007 4:29 PM


Wait, i remember this. Did you tell me a story about a guy who got his foot stuck in a trash can or something? I'll mail your letter soon. like the weekened? Oh. I did add more to the Idea. I told you how i thought of a title, right?

P.S. I'm only on crack, because someone keeps buying me things. *twitch*


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