Someone just said to me the other day, "You should start a blog". I replied that I had one, and I might consider writing in it again. So here we are.
So there's a lot I plan to write about in the future. I want to introduce my theory of the deep, dark evil of Gwen Stefani in her post-No Doubt days. There's a good chance I will rip shit on Hofstra University, Long Island and NJ on a regular basis. I'll write about some of the most awesome movies, video games, singers and songs ever.
But right now lets talk about how much karma can be a bitch. When we're all little, we wait for Christmas not because it' Jesus' birthday, but because we get awesome presents. I mean we're materialistic kids...it's a given we're psyched for a $5 Play dough set. So now that I'm basically 20, a college student and learned to appreciate alcohol, I put a huge red circle around March 17th on my calendar. St. Patrick's Day. Start drinkin' at 9 and don't stop till' you pass out. Truth is everyone is happy on St. Pat's. It's not the same on Christmas because you have to spend Christmas with your family and that can seriously be the handcrafted works of Satan himself. St. Patty's...you spend it with your friends, at a bar or a party, getting completely demolished. Everyone is happy, singing eating some good once-a-year Irish food. U2 and the Murphy's are playing. It's a good time.
March 16th. Wake up. Electric volts are shooting down my right lower jaw. I can't open my mouth. Now I don't have the best dental history, but this wasn't a small cavity. Something was wrong. So I called the dentist and he could see me at 7:30 at night. So I go there and to make a long story short, I begin my EMERGENCY ROOT CANAL. Within 5 minutes, the whole right side of my mouth and tongue is numb. The pain is gone, but I find out I have to go back in the morning. Same stuff the next morning but one little thing...the Novocaine wore off during the day, not the night. I had so much pain in my mouth, I sat on the couch all day and could only eat mashed potatoes. No corned beef and cabbage, no bar, no Guinness. No singing because there was no opening of the jaw. No fun for Becky.
So in conclusion, my day was ruined and that leaves me one answer to my ruined holiday. It'll have to be rescheduled this year. Cinco De Mayo. May 5th. 2 days after my birthday. Party on Wayne. Party on Garth.
So there's a lot I plan to write about in the future. I want to introduce my theory of the deep, dark evil of Gwen Stefani in her post-No Doubt days. There's a good chance I will rip shit on Hofstra University, Long Island and NJ on a regular basis. I'll write about some of the most awesome movies, video games, singers and songs ever.
But right now lets talk about how much karma can be a bitch. When we're all little, we wait for Christmas not because it' Jesus' birthday, but because we get awesome presents. I mean we're materialistic kids...it's a given we're psyched for a $5 Play dough set. So now that I'm basically 20, a college student and learned to appreciate alcohol, I put a huge red circle around March 17th on my calendar. St. Patrick's Day. Start drinkin' at 9 and don't stop till' you pass out. Truth is everyone is happy on St. Pat's. It's not the same on Christmas because you have to spend Christmas with your family and that can seriously be the handcrafted works of Satan himself. St. Patty's...you spend it with your friends, at a bar or a party, getting completely demolished. Everyone is happy, singing eating some good once-a-year Irish food. U2 and the Murphy's are playing. It's a good time.
March 16th. Wake up. Electric volts are shooting down my right lower jaw. I can't open my mouth. Now I don't have the best dental history, but this wasn't a small cavity. Something was wrong. So I called the dentist and he could see me at 7:30 at night. So I go there and to make a long story short, I begin my EMERGENCY ROOT CANAL. Within 5 minutes, the whole right side of my mouth and tongue is numb. The pain is gone, but I find out I have to go back in the morning. Same stuff the next morning but one little thing...the Novocaine wore off during the day, not the night. I had so much pain in my mouth, I sat on the couch all day and could only eat mashed potatoes. No corned beef and cabbage, no bar, no Guinness. No singing because there was no opening of the jaw. No fun for Becky.
So in conclusion, my day was ruined and that leaves me one answer to my ruined holiday. It'll have to be rescheduled this year. Cinco De Mayo. May 5th. 2 days after my birthday. Party on Wayne. Party on Garth.
