Welcome to Bat Country 

Memoriam

I would like to dedicate a Blog post to Hunter S. Thompson, author of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and many other great books, as well as my best halloween costume. He lived a crazy life, and died a crazy death, shooting himself in the head at 67. The world has lost a lot by his passing, as it's going to take a lot of nutcases to make up for the one it's just lost. If you're reading this, do something tonight in his honor. Get really fucked up, drink too much whiskey, drop too much acid, eat too much mescaline, or just smoke too much weed. Do it for Hunter, and keep the tradition of excessive, irresponsible behaviour for the sake of a wild time alive!

Kenny Bloggins

Wow, what a painfully cute little poem. Congratulations, Kristin, you are now officially off the Blog Death List! If you don't want to see all your friends exterminated by the Blog Squad (led by the man named in the title) you should MAKE THEM BLOG.

*For a full copy of the Blog Death List or for information on how to contact the Blog Squad, see this month's issue of Colliar's magazine.

Um...you should all probably ignore that last post. Hehe...sorry.

Save the Blog

Come on, people, what the fuck is wrong with you? You can't take a couple of seconds every once in awhile to post something in this blog? You people MAKE ME SICK. You can all go fuck yourselves, seriously. And I say that knowing that nobody's going to be reading this except Luke, who is obviously excused from having to fuck himself, though he's certainly free to do that if he chooses. But for all of you where AREN'T reading this, I hope you die slow painful deaths. I'm talking skinned alive and dipped in a tub full of salt water, then thrown in a pile of fire ants who will slowly devour you piece by minescule piece. You people are SHIT. You can all fucking suck my motherfucking cock and I hope you choke on it you goddamn sons of bitches. You don't deserve to Blog. Lowly maggot scum like you who don't even have the common decency to just post a tiny little update about what's going on in your life every now and then so your friends can keep in touch with you don't even deserve to live or pass on your genes. I hope your dicks are smashed or your cunts are sliced open. You people ought to be ashamed of yourselves, and if you don't start posting I swear by Satan that the streets will flow red with the blood of you, your families, your loved ones, and the families of your loved ones. Only those of you who are reading this will be spared. That is all.

Mein Geburtstag

Well Wednesday was my 21st birthday. Now I can finally drink legally! Not that I care, because I've been drinking legally for months, and now I'm doing much more smoking. I got about a half ounce of excellent shit the day before my birthday, and spent the entire day with the other Americans smoking and playing cards. We bought some cigars and I rolled up a blunt. Dirty-jerz style, only with Brazilian cigars (they don't have Phillies or Dutch-Masters). It was the first blunt I've smoked since Autumn Lane, but it was de-fucking-licious and I'll probably be doing it again. I also taught everyone how to play Up the River Down the River, which was also quite nostalgic and fun. But I only drank four beers, as the rest of the time was spent smoking bowls, joints, spliffs (with weed and hashish) and bong rips. Quite fun indeed.

Luke, you are the indisputable King of the Blog. Everone should be forced to holler at you whenever they blog as a form as respect. So holler at yourself. I'd also like to holler at Yastine for IMing me yesterday and wishing me a belated happy birthday. Apparently she was the only one who remembered :( but that's okay. And also a holler at Kimbo for IMing me last week and giving me the scoop on what's going down at Autumn. Because I sure can't tell from this dead, lifeless Blog.