Friday, April 3, 2009

BB: About Me for MySpace

I originally wrote this when I first signed up for MySpace back in the day... Oh I don't know, maybe when I was 20ish? Read it anyways:


The name is Anthony. I'm 28 yrs old and I still live at home . . . with my moms. I'm on the 15 yr plan, meaning I plan on staying at home (with my moms) until 15 years outta HS. I don't care what my friends say about my pad, living in the basement is cool shit. Unless my mom calls me to come eat dinner or to take the dog out while people are over . . . thats embarrassing shit. For the most part she doesn't bother "The Pad" as my friends like to call it. My friends are pretty cool, it doesn't bother me that people say they "can't see them". Doc says they're just being ignorant and that he can see them perfectly fine. Except I think the Doc has a bad memory, he always forgets that Alvin wears red, Theodore wears green, Simon wears blue, and David is not their biological father. I get tired of telling him those things . . . I mean hello? just look at them, its obvious to see which is which. Alvin's big yellow "A" on his red t-shirt might give it away. Not to mention they're frickin' chipmunkmans (human sized chipmunks) . . . My buddies don't mind that Doc can't tell them apart yet though, they're pretty cool guys like that. You're probably wondering if I get a lot of puss at "The Pad". The answer is, kinda but not really. There was this one time I almost got a girl to come over at 8:30 in the morning. I know what you're thinking, "what kind of player can get ass that early in the AM?" right? Well I almost got this bitty to come over, I was that close to becoming the master player of Wmspt. Just so happened I called at the end of her shift, so she couldn't come. Doesn't matter though, it would've cost too much anyway. I was planning on borrowing the 300 from moms, and I hate having to pay that woman back. You know how it is, borrowing cash from the parents. They all hold it against you and shit like, "I don't think so Anthony Michael. You're not allowed to drive my car until I get at least half of what you owe me". . . Feel me? Of course you do, 'rents are all the same . . . What else can I brag about myself? Hmm . . . I've been working for the newspaper company for 17 years now. The job is alright, the pay is good and I've been working my boss to get a dental plan for us Newspaper Delivery Technicians. NDTs as we like to call ourselves. The average age of the group of NDTs, not including myself, is 10. So you can say I'm the leader because of my years of experience on the job. But I like to think of it as me being born for it. That's something, I'm very proud of . . . One thing that really errks me about my job though. Is when people complain that I'm not delivering the newspaper on the front porch of the home every time. Instead I ride by on my bike (Huffy, I don't play no games) and throw the paper into the yard, giving my best heave to make it onto the porch. Here's an idea to those of you who complain . . . Did you ever think of building on an addition to your porch so I could get the newspaper onto it like you want? No, of course you didn't. Thats why I'm head of the NDTs and you're not. Anyway there's more to me than just all that. I know, hard to believe there could be anything more to such a wonderful life. The reality is that that's only a small dose of what you would get if you knew me better. If you would like to get to know me better, and hang out with me and my buddies at "The Pad", then there's only one way to get a hold of me. You have to drive by my house playing your stereo really loud so that I can hear you from inside of my house. In your stereo player you have to play the ice cream man jingle song . . . Its the only way moms lets me outta the house alone. I know, I'm bad. I trick her all the time with that. Nuckin' Futs.

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