My New Catch Phrase.

"Just like freckles on a mouse."




apply liberaly.

Chapter one of my upcoming book chronicling my tour of duty in the Mud Bad Water Good War

Tonight we heard Tall Walkers is going to hit Good People squad when we cross the River of Rushing Water. At least that's what Short Knees said. Damn, I don't know what to believe in anymore - yesterday they said they were going to strike us over the Black Treacle ridge but they didn't. Fucking paranoia man, I don't know what to believe in anymore.... didn't I just say that?

What was that? I heard a sound over by the bank, Medium Knees is telling me to check it out - why do I always have to check it out? Probably nothing, but if it is something it will mean the death of me. I know it. I've been telling myself every day, today is the day I die. But oh god, I'm not ready. Not with Melanie at home,
oh I miss her. I hope my buddy Tall Knees is taking care of her, I know I can trust him. He's my best friend after all, and he promised me a job when I get back at his dad's furniture store.

Oh shit - I swear I hear them dirty Language Speaker whispers over there, must be a trap. Hey, isn't this river the border with Land of Angry Zebras? Or was it that last river we crossed? Whatever it was I know we're someplace we're not welcome.

"Hey One Knee! I'll trade you a pitcher of spice water when we get back to Shrangi-la for a hot leaf now!"

"Go fuck yourself No Knees!" I yell, that fucking Irish man always promises a bottle for everything, but he never owns up.

If I get out of here, things are going to be different with Melanie, I know it. If only I get out of here.

Chapter one of my upcoming book chronicling my tour of duty in the Peloponnesian War

Tonight we heard Dando is going to hit Bravadoppolis squad when we cross the Nicias River. At least that's what Baldibiades said. Damn, I don't know what to believe in anymore - yesterday they said they were going to strike us over the Black Treacle ridge but they didn't. Fucking paranoia man, I don't know what to believe in anymore.... didn't I just say that?

What was that? I heard a sound over by the bank, Pericles is telling me to check it out - why do I always have to check it out? Probably nothing, but if it is something it will mean the death of me. I know it. I've been telling myself every day, today is the day I die. But oh god, I'm not ready. Not with Melanie at home,
oh I miss her. I hope my buddy Hercules is taking care of her, I know I can trust him. He's my best friend after all, and he promised me a job when I get back at his dad's furniture store.

Oh shit - I swear I hear them dirty Spartan whispers over there, must be a trap. Hey, isn't this river the border with Macedonia? Or was it that last sea we crossed? Whatever it was I know we're someplace we're not welcome.

"Hey Pedophilos! I'll trade you a bottle of wine when we get back to Shrangi-la for a cigar now!"

"Go fuck yourself Machurdian!" I yell, that fucking Turk always promises a bottle for everything, but he never owns up.

If I get out of here, things are going to be different with Melanie, I know it. If only I get out of here.

Chapter one of my upcoming book chronicling my tour of duty in the Spanish American War

Tonight we heard Jose is going to hit Bravado squad when we cross the Romaranes River. At least that's what Smith said. Damn, I don't know what to believe in anymore - yesterday they said they were going to strike us over the Black Treacle ridge but they didn't. Fucking paranoia man, I don't know what to believe in anymore.... didn't I just say that?

What was that? I heard a sound over by the bank, Sherridan is telling me to check it out - why do I always have to check it out? Probably nothing, but if it is something it will mean the death of me. I know it. I've been telling myself every day, today is the day I die. But oh god, I'm not ready. Not with Melanie at home,
oh I miss her. I hope my buddy Samuel is taking care of her, I know I can trust him. He's my best friend after all, and he promised me a job when I get back at his dad's furniture store.

Oh shit - I swear I hear them dirty Spanish whispers over there, must be a trap. Hey, isn't this sea the border with Haiti? Or was it that last sea we crossed? Whatever it was I know we're someplace we're not welcome.

"Hey Hensley! I'll trade you a bottle of whisky when we get back to Shrangi-la for a cigar now!"

"Go fuck yourself Harroldson!" I yell, that fucking Irish man always promises a bottle for everything, but he never owns up.

If I get out of here, things are going to be different with Melanie, I know it. If only I get out of here.

Chapter one of my upcoming book chronicling my tour of duty in Vietnam

Tonight we heard Charley is going to hit Bravo squad when we cross the Meh Jong River. At least that's what Rodriguez said. Damn, I don't know what to believe in anymore - yesterday they said they were going to strike us over the Black Treacle ridge but they didn't. Fucking paranoia man, I don't know what to believe in anymore.... didn't I just say that?

What was that? I heard a sound over by the bank, Conner is telling me to check it out - why do I always have to check it out? Probably nothing, but if it is something it will mean the death of me. I know it. I've been telling myself every day, today is the day I die. But oh god, I'm not ready. Not with Melanie at home,
oh I miss her. I hope my buddy Patrick is taking care of her, I know I can trust him. He's my best friend after all, and he promised me a job when I get back at his dad's furniture store.

Oh shit - I swear I hear them dirty Vietcong whispers over there, must be a trap. Hey, isn't this river the border with Cambodia? Or was it that last river we crossed? Whatever it was I know we're someplace we're not welcome.

"Hey O'Dooley! I'll trade you a six pack when we get back to Shrangi-la for a cigarette now!"

"Go fuck yourself Harroldson!" I yell, that fucking Irish man always promises a six pack for everything, but he never owns up.

If I get out of here, things are going to be different with Melanie, I know it. If only I get out of here.

Sidewalk Angels of Atlanta

I decided today that I'm going to adopt a homeless person today. I thought about this after dropping off an uneaten sandwich I had made this morning by his feet while he sleeping. Returning to work feeling positive about myself after this good deed made me realize that wasn't enough. I need to fucking Sally Struthers his ass and adopt him. I've never adopted anything, but considering Melissa & I haven't been on a cruise yet - this might be our answer.

No, never mind - I don't want a 50 year old crack addict bum stinking up our houses and eating my Cheezits while I'm working. But there has got to be something I can do.

I know - I'll figuratively adopt him! Not literally adopt him, but just pretend I adopted him - why hasn't anyone ever thought of that? In fact, rather than mailing all those starving foreign kids to the United States of Hootie & the Blowfish, we could just mail them shit. Damn - I need to get on the horn & talk to Sally Struthers about that.

But as for my 'figurative' adoption, this might be a good beginning. So if anyone reading this wants to adopt a bum, mail me money. Seriously, that's all I'm asking you - because I can tell you're thinking "oh shit, this can't be for real. I'd be totally fucking taking advantage of Brad" - but I'm totally fucking serious dude. Just mail me the money, and I'll spend it for the wee stinky folk. I'll buy them all kinds of shit, of course I'll decide what to spend.

I'll be like Johnny Appleseed of the city streets of Atlanta. Except I won't plant apples & my god damn name sure as hell ain't Johnny. In fact I've only known of one Johnny, and I think he was gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that. I like gay people. I just don't LIKE gay people. Wait - I'm sounding like an asshole, I mean I like gay people, I just think they shouldn't LIKE me. No, that sounded egotistical, what I'm trying to say I think is this - gay people are cool, but I don't want to be ass fucked.

*Phew* Glad I could get that nearly bigoted closed minded oopsie daisy out of the way. I mean, I don't want people to be thinking I wasn't cool with the non-going to heaven people. Particularly after proving how great I am about thinking for the bums and shit. I mean - I god damn love the underprivaleged & the spat upon. Especially as long it's recognized that I'm me - you know, heterosexual white middle class & handsome, & though I could be spending my time thinking about kitty cats & minituare choo choo trains - like that one on Silver Spoons. God damn that was the mother fucking shit wasn't it? It was like it was a regular train, but it was small and instead of sitting inside you sat ON TOP of it. Isn't that cool? I bet if AMTRAK would switch to that kind of train more people would take the train. But getting inside of trains are so fucking gay. Not homosexual gay, or ass fucking gay. Just you know, uhmmm.... not cool. Not to say gay people aren't cool. But you know what I mean? They're just not like us, you know - cool. Shit, that didn't sound right. I'm not saying gay people aren't cool. They're just not cool like me. You know what I'm saying right? Hey it's me - bum loving & gay liking (but not LIKING) Brad.

*PHEW* Another close call. Sometimes you can mean one thing but wind up sounding like a real jerk. Like this one time in high school when I was working in the library. There was this old woman, yeah I know - what was a teenager doing around an old person - but it was because I worked at the library & that is where old people work, at libraries. So she was talking about the pope visiting & she wanted to see him. So I thought I would add to the conservation, so I said - "You stupid fucking Canuck - the pope is some dumb old douche bag that don't mean shit. No wonder you fucking catholics have so many babies, it's because, uhmmm.... you are all stupid?". Now, I didn't mean to insult her Canadian heritage - but I wanted to clarify that she was from Canada. And I didn't know anything about the word 'Canadian', I though Canuck was plural or something like that for Canada.

So that just proves you can never tell how people will react because they're so sensitive.

Ok, well, I'm going to go over there, so you can stop reading now. Fucking leeches, why don't you write your own blog rather than depending on me to write my blog. Oh, sorry, I guess I didn't think about you in fact do have your own blog. Ok, sorry about that. Then... whatever.