Errybody loves Tina right? The bumbling, lovable, deaf, dumb and blind pooch that feeds off the chicken fat and beef lard I sneak in her bowl. Well…Dumb story told: the lil plumper was pinchin her morning loaf on the lawn, followed by her obligatory A-town stomp and dig to throw some grass on her masterpiece as all dogs to. Anyway, she than proceeded to hop in the car, and upon my lap to the schoolward bound morning journey. Five minutes in my nasal cavities catch wind of something foul in the air. A raw, pungent, aroma emanating from that hippo herself. The car was stopped to carry out a closer inspection of the stench. Upon further inspection I noticed to very definite paw prints on my short pants filled and outlined in dark brown, very textured fecal matter. Dog shit. It would seem that the lil turd burgler, in her old, senile age neglected to watch out for her own poo as she was trying to bury it in the many blades of grass that carpet the church lawn. So thats my embarassing story for the day. Love it.
As for my other, far less interest chapter in the greatest story ever told…My computer is still, as my momma would say “shitted up.” My re-conversion to Linux is one that will be shortlived, due to compatibility issues with my processor, the kernel freaks out and the whole system locks up and I am forced to use my moms craptop to post this poop of a post. I figure I’ll jus scrap my box, sell it on craigslist and start anew like I said.
Adhering to the whole “start anew” thing, I have made a resolution to totally revamp the site once I build a new computer. The new version of NBHQ should be predominantly composed of Cascading Style Sheets as opposed to the outdated tabular format that I’ve been using since day one.
What this means to you the viewer :
Oh for the love of jeez! It’s so hot my balls are stickin to my knees! Good thing Green Day was off the sheez, for reez. It’s true, thanks to my main mayonaise Ebert, for hooking it up with two tickets for me and my swell gal pal to a attend a marvelous rock and/or roll concierto. The lineup included Jimmy Eat World & Floggin Molly, and there was fire too and fireworks. We drank beers. The show got out around midnight, and we headed over to Ian’s abode, free from parental supervision, with plenty of those kettle chips handy, salt & pepper is what I like. Colin Crawford plucked his 4-string with a blistering vengeance *you can bet that pun was intentional*, Eebs played that 6-string and took us all to Funkytown, Ian…hit drums with drumsticks. Good times. Lame Post.
My computer is proper fucked. My installation of Windows XP Pro that lasted me more than a year finally kicked the bucket, all hail the mighty Microsoft. Anyway, I’ll be rockin the Mandriva Linux till I sell the box all together and start afresh.
Nick Brady (me) is officially employed and has been deemed the title of IT guy @ Network Artist, a computer networking company in Redwood City, and it pays way more than your mom.
No links today…Bah humbug bitches. The next post will kick the asshole of this one.
Pretty fat rager party at my crib this last weekend, my humble abode, packed, like a fat man in a very small jacket, blubber bursting out of the zipper. chics in tight jeans, a guy who eatscool beans, and two more pairs of jeans. Liquid was scarce at this particular function, Joe managed to find a dilute drink to satisfy his mangina. I looked on. Jazz flute and Smirnoff Twist are for little…fairy…boys. Quoted. Ruff managed to smuggle in some shit from China, some shit from China that came from a exceptionally large can. Perhaps you noticed this photo, that was the gruesome aftermath of this event ( 4.1 mb ) . So remember kids, don’t try to smash a huge can on your dome unless you want a big stupid facial laceration. Always wear protection. Be careful when using that rubber rope thing that is capable of whipping the eyeball out of your eyeball socket. Don’t touch momma’s reaching stick. When all else fails, jus chill with your home dog.
Speakin of that crazy rottweiler / German shepard of mine…We dressed her up. As a bumble bee, as batman, and the devil too. Now how many of you can you spent a Thursday evening dressing up your peach miniature poodle in not jus one but three cute lil outfits? Go on…raise your hands.
So aside from keeping you up to date with my affairs as a high school senior, I decided to bring back all the old photos from my Freshman and Sophomore year and compile them into one conveniant folder. This one, this folder right here baby, the new home to more than a lot of photos that spell out the life in the times, the struggles, the good times, the lack of short term memory, and the good times. Take this old one of Randy for examplehe had three slices of pizza in his grill, at that time. That’s pretty marvelous. Member that day we rocked the stashes before we could grow our own? Member the hoes? Member when I chugged all that robotussin and my head got all weird? How bout when my upstairs neighbor left his water on and flooded my house so the fire deptartment came to bust open his door. Dramatic. Jus check em out.
And don’t think I forgot to mention the CURRENT school pics, these bad boys right here. The one of hoisting up a random freshman ( obviously I dint learn shit from Natalie ) and obviously that freshman wasn’t random if she was Ash’ms lil sissy poo. Poptart kicks the hump of a thousand camels when he directs traffic in the morning, for that I applaud him. I dislike rolly backpacks for the simple fact that they obstruct my path which requires the utmost space to accomodate my lengthy strides. I DO like the guy on the left, I mean hes got it down, I wanna take him to lunch. I despice being in the company of people taller than I, so when I get the apportunity to stand beside my good friend Shell Fish, I don’t pass it up.
So thats all for now, I have a job interview tommorow for some little computer networking company in Redwood City, if you were that one armless girl I would ask you cross your fingers but…ya know. As you probably noticed I tweaked the CSS of the photo gallery and cleaned up the video section a bit. Thats jus the beginning. Bitches.
Consider this a belated but very sincere happy birthday to one of my, and ya better believed we celebrated in style orderin up some bacon wrapped in bacon wrapped in a cube of butter deep fried with ranch for dipping at TGI mutha fuckin F Fridays. I enjoyed the girl to me ratio that night , although I could have done without nasty ass quesidilla that did not agree-a with my tummy nor my bowels. Sick. Other than that though I’ve been takin pics of joe talkin on my old phone, along with lighting those sword weed things on fire on tennis courts late at night. Oh did I mention I made yearbook photo staff? Who woulda thunk that? I guess I got the whole school’s administration on the jock eh? Still liftin the weights, im up to 1…toyota , I keed, I did hit 275 on the bench though which was my goal for the first semester and I am determined to hit 315 by the time I graduate from this zoo.
I spent this past weekend in Pacific Grove, my old roots, watchin my girl win a swim in some cold, bitchy waters, I thought the whole thing was inspirational, I mean…if she can do it why can’t anybody? Why…I bet even this special lil fella could give it a go. In all honesty though I was proud of her, it’s one thing to do the damn thing and swim more than a mile, it’s another to get 2nd place. This pic cracks me up looks like a papparazi shot, she liked this pic cause it looks hallmarky, and it does! Bitches. Click here to see the rest of the pics I took from the weekend Some are in here too.
The next post will be better and beefier, I got the biography page up along with some other ones. Do me a fatty favor and click my adds. Danny Marchette already made my ass more than 15 bucks, thanks ya lil skirt fuck.