Why?

Why am I writing? That's what I was thinking writing 'Why am I writing?'. Of course, I was also thinking: 'BOOBIES!!!' but if I said that I would sound like a perv. Crap.

It's all Stoopid's fault, damn you all!

Yesterday I finished with my exams (they were the "How were your exams? - Well, you know... Not really good, but well... they weren't exactly... bad either, you know. -So, did you pass all of them? - I guess... I don't know man, maybe I failed on none of them, maybe I failed on all of them, you know..." kinda good, which is not bad) and I went to the café with one of my friends and some guys from his group (since I don't know anyone from my group, shame really). I hadn't eaten anything that day and so I was tipsy (what a gay word) quite fast and I decided to go home instead of joining my friend to the next café. When I got home around 6.30PM I had breakfast (you don't want to know what and even if you did want to know, I'm not gonna tell, it's-not-interesting) and I started feeling better. Just when I was back to normal again, Stijn called to meet me at the station and have some beers with the usual metal crew from Deinze. I was like the Pablo Francisco 'fuck ya!' kind of 'sure, why not?' and so I was on my bike for the bloody sixth time that day.

I really don't know what to write anymore. I should probably delete all of this, since it has no interesting value at all. But then, apparently some people think that what I have written so far is extremely interesting. I don't get them, I really don't. Ah well, whatever. Though most of the conversations yesterday were about boobies (duh) and metal (fuck ya), Stijn suggested that I started writing Screenshots Updates on Playstage again, which probably is a good idea. For those infamiliar with SU's: learn to understand freakin' Dutch and get your lazy ass (oh yes it's lazy, otherwise you wouldn't be reading a bloody blog in the first place) to PlayStage.be.

As Jeffrey, after several hours of mathematical analysis, ingeniously pointed out: "You're just writing about your life...' Well, you must have really spent ages figuring that out. '... and it's funny' No, it isn't. I thought I had a strange sense of humour (I laugh at the most awkward moments, you know, when everybody is like dead serious I have the uncontrollable urge to laugh and then I get all these angry faces looking at me, love it) but I am surpassed massively by those who think my life (or at least what I write about it in the SU's) is funny. Ah well, it's my job to entertain people writing that crap and I seem to succeed at it, even if the audience who actually likes it, is a wee bit strange. Fuck it, they rule. Those who don't like the SU's should bind their balls to a horse and smack the horse on its ass, causing it to start running and... Ooh yeah, you'd like that, don't you?

That was gross. Damn you Stoopid!

You know, the Vincent post is actually the introduction to a post that I will make soon and that will contain a big announcement for some of the readers of this blog. But more on that soon. In the post that I just mentioned, you dumbass. Don't get excited, I'm not going to write it until I feel like writing it. Which is definitely not now. As you can read in the piece of horribly boring text above. To all of those who like this text: 'Proficiat!' To all of those who don't like this text: 'Ook proficiat!'.