***Update***
I just added a writing to my reading section..please check it out!
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Okay so the title is a bit decieving.

I didn't actually go that far since the last entry, in fact, i just went in to my street. Which is just north of my house. Or Northeast if you want to be anal about it. Anyway this here is the story of 7 annoying ass kids.

So im sitting upstairs doing nothing at my computer desk, when my dad yells "Get the mail." I jumped all over this oppertunity to be a total fag and run out in a hurry with nothing but a towel to cover my somewhat chilly genitals, because i had been waiting for an order of japanese gum to come in for 8 business days. I quickly skittered out the front door and into my street when suddenly i saw them. Them being the kids from down the lane. Oh god do those kids scare me! They are all very, oh i dunno. But their persistent for one. And they have a really big house with another large 2 story building just for playing pinball.

As i saw these kids yelling amongst themselves as they ran towards me i trembled in my makeshift clothing. I power-walked back down my driveway and into my hosue as if my father or mother had called me but when i got in, I realized that I had forgotten one thing! (No not my towel) But the mail. I had no choice but to face my greatest....fear? No, more like greatest annoyance. I threw on some pants and a t-shirt and walked the long walk back to the mailbox.

When I arrived at my destination, I found that my foes werent waiting for me at all. "Phew," I thought, "I guess I lost 'em". So I took the mail, turned around and when i did, I saw them. They were knocking on my front door. "They must have gotten there while i was walking around the house from the side enterance" I thought. Damn, what was i gunna do now?

Ahah! I had it! I would try and sneak past them and then upstairs to my office! While I was travelling, my father would tell the kids that he did not know where I was and they would leave! Finaly!

It didnt work. I ended up getting stuck playing football in the street and I scraped my knee. Those bastards! They had it planned all along!

I Know it!
-Yours Truly, A certain Mr. Sucubus

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Update -Same Day-

I have decided to write Jerry a letter as well
*ahem*

Dear Geri,
I think your name is way to long and hard to say to be on an ice cream container. I mean comon dude, who the fuck wants to eat ice cream with a name so big on it that theres no room left for the flavors. Now dont get me rong, I thin your cool. Your name however..ehh... I'll bet theres a bunch of little kids who eat Hagen Daz cuz they cant spell Jerrrrrey or whatever. Just change your damn name bro. For the good of all of us! Oh and by the way, the tour guide that i had at the factory was awsome! Oh and tell me if u really are going out with Ben. Cuz i think his names too good for you.
From, Dishy
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Ahh..

Well I have just returned from a week long trip to the beautiful forested and mountainous state of Vermont. Believe me man, that place makes New Jersey (or at least the heart of N.J.) look like that crap you left in your buddy's front yard after he beat you in basketball. Yeah, you know, the one that the dog ate then threw up all over the carpet?

-What your imagining now, yeah thats edison.

Anyway making the transition from a pool of radiation and dead kids to fresh air and Ben and Jerry's ice cream was delightful.

-On my first day there I slept.
-On the second day I slept and ate.
-On the third day I slept, ate, and did a bit of shopping.
-On the fourth day i slept, ate, shopped and went to the Ben & Jerrys factory.
-On the fifth day i slept, ate, shopped, sat around, and almost got killed by a hitman.
-On day six i went up to Montreal, Quebec, Canada to eat lunch.
-On day seven i woke up really early just so that i oculd come back to Shitpile land and waste my life writing blog entries on nutang.com

While at the Ben and Jerrys factory, I decided to write a letter to ben...
It was as follows:

Dear Ben,
I think your the best out of you and Jerry. I like you better. Not that I dont like Jerry, i just like you better. So dont go telling Jerry that i hate him. Cuz i dont. Anyways, I like you better mostly cuz of your name. it's much easier to spell. Not only is it shorter, but sometimes i dont know about Jer's name over there. Whats with that shit. I dont know if its a G or a J or if there are two R's or if its a I or a Y at the end. You should tell him to fix his name.
Love, Dishy

I dont think my letter got to him though... oh well...

Gotta run..ill update this later..

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So here I am again, preaching to you, this time however from a different venue. I am currently lying on the floor of my buddy's room typing this entrie on his old computer. Now this "old computer" is like a machine god compared to my piece of shit metal hump with broken speakers that I have at home, but it is a shitheap compared to my bud's new computer. He has recently bought an Area 51 Alienware desktop. Since, he has praised it like a god. Now this is all too normal in America. And there is nothing rong with it, but it is interesting none the less.

My friends story is repeated all over the country and the globe daily. Like once during my early childhood, I remember my uncle buying a "Rider Mower". He waited forever to buy it, and when he had it, he rode it like it was Britney Spears at the Grammys after-party. He Mowed his lawn down to a fine military haircut of grass and repeated this every week. For about a month, all he cared about was the mower. Then however, it became less fun for him to grind his front yard's grass into dust, and he began to look into buying a new car. He thought about the car 24/7 and even forgot to mow his lawn for 2 months.

This is the thing: Americans are addicted to having new stuff all the time. And after not too long, the new toys become old toys, and even newer toys are needed. It's a daunting task for manufacturers, to keep up with Americas crave for bigger and better, but they get what they need to get done done. Or else mayybe we'd all die!

-See You Later!
-Dishy Sucubus

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You Know What I Think,
-No? Betcha Dont Care either, but thats not gunna stop me from telling you.

Well, I think that the company that makes your favorite soft drink is hooking you on it without you knowing it, but I'm going to crack the case! I'll bet you like coke! I'll bet when i say the word coke, it makes you thirsty. It makes you want a coke. I know It makes me want a coke. Your mouth is actually watering right now, all because I'm talking about coke, and i think i know why.

They hint at it in their title coca-cola. Now we all know what cola is. It's the fizzy sweet drink that bubbles in your mouth and quenches your thirst thouroghly after just one glass. And we all know what coca is. It's a plant. An addictive one. It's the plant they use to create cocaine, and it's addictive nature may be taking it's effect on you every time you sip an ice cold coke.

Heres what they dont tell you on the bottle:
.5mg - coca/guarana mixture

When they mix these two ingredients to gether, the coca's harmful effect is dimmed by the high-caffeine nature of the guarana. In other words...in such a small doseage, the body focuses on hte caffeine rather than the coca. But its addictive nature still takes hold of your mind. It slips under the radar into your body, and causes you to want more of it every time you hear or see the word Coke. Every time you see a big billboard with a sizzling glass of ice cold cola on it, your body tells you it needs some through your slaivary glands and drying of your throat.

Is any of this true? Probably not. But i still want a coke.

-Until next time,
Spade

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Hello World.

Despite what the title may suggest, I am neither a soccer mom, a soccer player, a soccer player with a soccer mom, or a soccer mom who just happens to play soccer. However I did recently find myself at one of these odd soccer player get togethers, where 8 year old boys in little shorts kick a ball around to each other and pretend they know whats happening. Why I was here, I cannot say. But I was, and whilst i was i saw many things coming mostly from the female portion of the audience, that seriously irked me. No, they more than irked me, they discommoded me. They were so discommoding in fact that I could'nt think about anything but the discommotion in my brain for about...well i suppose im writing about so up until now.

Oh yes, I suppose now youre wondering "What Discommotion could Discommode the man to the point where he couldn't think about anything but the discomotion up unitil.." ect. ect. Well I'll tell you:

-These, "soccer moms" as they are called do many discommoding things. Such as:

1.) Put on their makup in the car just before getting out. But the odd thing is, they cant do it unless they have their mouths open the entire time. This seemed strange to me, although when i tried putting makeup on after seeing this phenomonon, I found myself unconciously oppening my mouth as well. Strange.

2.) I also noticed that whenever these people come to 'Soccer Games' as their called, they come equipped with a big bottle of water and a lawn chair. Normal, i mean they are going to be there for a while. But the irk- no discommoding thing is that when the specimen takes a drink out of the water bottle, they cannot do so without thrusting their hips foreward and holding their lower backs with their opposite hand. I'm telling you go to a soccer game and watch!

3.)THEY ALL DRIVE MINIVANS! All of them. I can understand if you have 4 kids who play sports and stuff yeah, buy a minivan, but damn. Gimme a f***in' break! I hate it when i see people drive up in a 16 seat purple eggplant mobile and have one kid take 25 minutes to get out from the way back.

I can think of many more things but the truth id folks, I'm bored.

-See you next time!

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