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cerrovena
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read my profile
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Name: Andrew
Birthday: 8/5/1982
Gender: Male
Interests: The short list: coffee, art, culture, music, ethnic foods, baking, concerts, jumping into the ocean, God stuff, foreign language, puppies and kitties, walking outdoors barefoot, way too much bs, not to mention...girls.
Expertise: Humanities, geography, politics, foreign language, media, culture, theater, music, art. blah.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
AIM:  oldirtybuckstard
Member Since:
10/24/2003
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| - Roots Bloody Roots
A Few Things About Me
1. I'm not an asshole. No really, I look out for people and want to do right by them.
2. I'm not a rapist. Fuck you OC kids for believing a rumor when you know me better than that. I don't abuse people. Frankly, it hurts to have friends giving me dirty looks for a whole year and avoiding me for bullshit like that.
3. I'm not a fat, ugly loser with no future. (That was a real bitchy thing to say Lindsay.) Actually, you're an arrogant bitch Lindsay. Church addiction does not make you a good person. You're not an entirely bad person, but you are an arrogant bitch. You go have fun with your low-paying, diminishing journalism market. I'll be fufilled and making more money than you. Statistically, how do most millionaires become so wealthy? They start small businesses that they are passionate about. Here's a quarter, go buy some perspective. I'm not letting that shit go until you apologize hag.
4. I loved you Dri. I really did. I'm sorry things didn't work out. I know your friends aren't my biggest cheerleaders, but you know my heart better than they do. You're a strong woman and your life will have a tremendous impact on the world.
5. I like my job.
6. I love my dog. He loves me and makes me get over myself.
7. I like coffee in the morning and sometimes at night, but I don't worship it like I used to. It's gotta be black, nothing in it.
8. My truest friends have impressed me more than anyone else. They're all growing in ways that are just remarkable. They have shown me their loyalty and support in ways no one else has shown me.
9. I do not multi-task well.
10. I have Tourette Syndrome. No, it's not a joke.
11. That's all for now. Pop country sucks. Bye Bye!
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| - What It's Like
Holy nuts. It's good and quiet in here. Dad's in L.A., Mom's in Ohio. Two weeks, Andy Buck, One Dog, One Apartment. This will rule. Methinks Medrinks one or two and have good times with a buddy or two.
"cause blue eyes, you’re the secret I keep" | | |
| I wish I could take credit for this.....
I LIKE MONKEYS
I like monkeys.
The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought that
odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to
look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys.
I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His
name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really
bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed.
Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.
I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new
environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at
high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the
spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.
Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive:
they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead.
Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn
cheap monkeys.
I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my
room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked
like I had 200 throw rugs.
I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.
I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for
a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real
bad.
I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want
to call the plumber. I was embarrassed.
I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately
there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change
them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so
it didn't all go bad.
I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to
extinguish the fire.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in
my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor
wasn't improving.
I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the
bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better.
I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn't
allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet
one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the
frozen ones.
I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My
friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like
them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in
the genitals.
I like monkeys | | |
| - Jackass
funny b/c it's true ---> "A suspense movie that trades on 9/11's profoundly emotional memory needs to be respectful and subtle. So who's directing this? Oh crap, it's Oliver Stone." ...from The Onion A/V Club. | | |
| This gave me trouser chili.
FEMALE PRAYER
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.
Amen.
MALE PRAYER
I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs who owns a
liquor store and a bass boat. This doesn't rhyme and I don't care. Amen | | |
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