Saturday and Sunday being Revised

So here's the deal. These days, all the greatness of my weekends happens between 3:30 and 7 on Fridays. So really, I feel that the rest of the weekend should be told it feels like a long wait for Monday. I owe that to my favorite hoarder.

The Mail Man

I love sending messages the vintage way. You know, the whole, "I'll write a letter and put it in an envelope and send it by truck/plane to you and you can read my smudged writing" business. Also, the Postal Service are quite the cool bunch of people.
That being said, the Mail Man must die. You see, thanks to him and his inability to properly do his job, I have been robbed of a 5000$ scholarship at the University I plan on attending year next. Who knows, maybe I can still get it, despite the fact that my confirmation was sent in more than two weeks after the due date. If not, I am going to start a revolt where we all kill mail man with spam e-mail. The details need to be worked out.


Look at that smile. It is the smile of theft and distrust.

My Week In Fifteen Words

Flask is drunken idiot.
A Bear has made my life a much much happier place.