Hey everyone!

Go here: http://paperweightreply.blogspot.com/

You may ask what "here" is exactly and, don't worry, I'll feed you my little puppets.

This is my new blog. I never really thought that I would warrant one, but it's come to it. I've had a handful of people suggest starting an actual blog, and this is what I've done. And I've had a few more people than a handful bugging me to write a new one, so I figured that I'd kill two birds with one stone.

So, there will be no more new blogs here, there will just be the blogspot one. It's been updated once to say all of what I've reiterated here, so hopefully everyone will enjoy the new one just as much. So bookmark it, RSS feed it, do what you must, but hopefully I can continue on entertaining and not get played out like most things i do.

Enjoy everyone!!!!

Once again!

http://paperweightreply.blogspot.com/

I promised in my last blog that I was done with the old me. Fuck that shit. I wanted to be someone that I wasn't, and that doesn't work for anyone, you can only be who you are. And because of that, this blog now exists. It's the kind of journey that everyone has to take with me, and keep in mind that this story is 100% true.

Let's meet our cast of characters.

Of course you have me.



We all know me, love me (come to terms with it), it's me!



This is the human trainwreck that is April. She is my ex. We've all familiarized ourself with her in the following weeks by my last blog, and her sprinkling my profile with comments.

Now, the new characters that most people don't know about. I only have a vague description of him, so let me tell everyone what I know.

Rusty is a 40 year old man who holds two jobs. First job, a magician. And interesting choice for a 40 year old man, but I like to think that this man is self-employed, he's reaching for that American Dream that most of us won't be able to reach in our lifetimes. I imagine a magician to look like this:







However, I don't imagine Rusty to look like this because of his second occupation. Rusty has a Robot. This Robot hands out flyers, he controls the Robot from a Van, and has it pass out flyers. Interesting job choice number 2.

I can tell that this man is the safest horse to bet on.

For those of you who don't know a robot looks like this:







Rusty, in his pedophile van, with his Robot, with his name being Rusty likes to date girls 20 years younger than him. Knowing what we know now, we can deduct that Rusty looks like one of the following men:









Choose whoever you best feel to represent Rusty in this story.

And we're off!!!

Before April and I started dating I already told Rob and Kevin that I needed her out of my life ASAP, they both agreed, however, I mistaked ASAP for 2 months after we started dating.

So I drive over April's to do the deed, and it happens.

"I don't think we should see eachother anymore."

"Okay"

That was it, an okay. No tears, no emotions from either of us, nothing. Just.... okay. Then, finally, "why?"

I blamed our conflicting schedules, because I wanted to be nice, but knowing what I know now I would've said that she is a retarded girl who nobody likes, who's voice is comparable to only nails on a chalkboard, who can call me once she grows up.

And someone so ugly that every person who met her, or saw a picture, or knew I was with her said, "Wow, she's a bit big/ugly for you."

But I was being nice, so, conflicting schedules, and we had nothing in common.

She asked if there was anything that I needed to get out.... Nothing, and then she went.

"You know how you like to sleep in on your days off?"

"Yes." Honestly, I work all the time, and so my days off, I love to sleep 'til about 10 or 11, April got up at fucking 7 o'clock every single day. God-forbid, don't sleep over if I bore you.

"Well, you stay logged into websites on your computer, so I read your e-mails."

"Oh." Whatever she wants to do. Little Mrs. I'm-a-cunt-who-needs-to-settle-her-curiousity is out of my life anyway.

"Fine, you read my e-mails."

"Oh, and, do you remember Rusty?"

"Why yes, your friend with the Robot."

"I cheated on you with him."

....

"You slept with someone twenty years your senior, who has a matching future with that of a 6 month old who was used as the ball in every sport his redneck brothers played?"

"Yes."

"Him?"

"Yes."

Now most people would get really angry or sad because most guys like to play that "If she cheated on me with so-and-so I must be awful." But this guy is so herrondously bad that I can't even do that, but I can tell y
ou why she did it.

When we met I told all my friends that she was going to turn out batshit insane, or retarded, and here we are. She was a 23 year old virgin with self-esteem issues (breast implant [implant is not a typo, one decided that it would be shy and not grow]) and a friend with a Robot twenty years her senior. I saw this coming from miles away and I should've ended it when I had the chance.

The reason why this guy is absolutely worse than me is because, besides me, that's the best she can do. April's looks are different in the bad way. Her personallity is grating. And she always complained that her friends called her "unique" because it was such a cop-out of what they really thought, and it was. She's not unique. She may be crazy, but to people who don't know who she really is she's not different. She's the same most people you meet on the street.
She's destined for a commonplace job. She's destined for platitudinous friends. She's destined for a plebeian boyfriends and all-in-all she's destined a unremarkable life, and she knows this.

That's why she cheated on me with someone worse, because that's the best she can do.

I, sadly, have to start out this blog, not with my normal tone. My tone that causes an uproar. The tone that shatters dreams, and hurts peoples' weak, penetrable, soft and gooey egos. I like to think that that tone has long since died. I was going to write a retraction to my previous blogs, and I was going to stretch out this paragraphs summary into that blog, but what the hell? It wouldn't do me any good, and I feel as if bygones are bygones with everyone. People have learned to take a joke, and my work here is done.

Today is a new era. And with that in mind I give you this new blog entitled, "The Man, the Myth, the Legend."

The title would have one assume that this blog would be more of the same, but that's just to lure the regulars back, but this blog isn't about me. It isn't about my penis, or my getting laid. Like I said, new leaf, so it's about a different man, and how that man brought other men, and a woman together.

That man is "Weird" Al Yankovic. And let us meet our cast of stars:

First, you have yours truly, in the past I feel enough has been said about me for everyone to be updated on what is, essentially, me:





Next, we have Kevin. Ladies, he's available, and he loves the Detroit Rock scene.


Next on the roster we have Rob. Obviously the love of my life because, frankly, I have more pictures of him and I on my computer than anyone else; and when I say "together" I mean "posing as a couple," not him and I standing next to eachother. Check us out:







Lastly, and most certainly not least, the girl whom I need a lot more pictures with, we have April. She is amazing, funny, lovely, and well-educated. And she knows as well as I do that the comma before the "and" in the previous sentence is called a "Harvard Comma." A girl that understands the brilliance that is "The Critic." And catches me quoting the rarest of the rare nicktoons. I wuv her:



This is less a picture of us and more of a guy tripping balls behind us. According to his story he was feeling the POWER OF ROCK!







She's never in the center of the pictures because believe you me, it's damn hard to take a picture of someone while not letting the move away from you. That's why April had to take all of Rob's and my pictures. Why neither Rob nor Kevin exchanged the favor is only because how infinitely jealous of April and I they are, but who can blame them.

And special cameo by punk rock baby!



Now the man of the hour. The one man that can bring all these people together. Mr. "Weird" Al Yankovic:

Opening with a polka:



Bubble Machine!



It's all about the Pentiums WHAT!?



RATM Reunion:



Even the dead have risen for this show:



Some serious sinners:



The Obese:



And the reason we were all there. Only because we are all white and nerdy:





That man works wonders. He brought people from everywhere together. And if you've never seen him live, I really recommend it.

You may be asking why anyone would want to read any of this, and the answer is simple. The fact of the matter is that you probably wouldn't, but the moral of the story is that I got to see "Weird" Al and you didn't.

And I also had to point out that Rob and I have more "couple" pictures that April and I.

And I can't wait until all of my friends are together again.

You vultures deliberately disobeyed me. I said that my last blogs were going to suck, and that I was well aware, and that it was something that couldn't be helped. I told you that I wanted no angry messages, or anything.

And do you know what you guys did? Do you? I'm going to already assume that you do, and since that was a day or two ago, a couple hours ago for a few of you, to yell at you now is to yell at an animal hours after what it did wrong, and that would just be unfair to you people...

...

Fuckers.

Here it goes:

Going to college you meet all sorts of people, you really do. It's not much different going to any city and meeting people in said city, the only difference is a college is compact. You have all people of different creeds, backgrounds, races, and everything else you can think of living in a couple mile radius. So you are surrounded by tons of different people much like:



Given he was in Middle School, but just like at college, pink, purple, and green people. All over the fucking place.

My College career has been no different. But this story is about one specific girl.

I met her in an english class. she was fairly attractive, smart enough to be in college, which isn't saying much, but who cares, and I noticed her the first day of class.

Me being the nerd I am got to the class 15 minutes early. However, my nerd points were reduced quickly as a chose a seat in the back corner, with all the cool kids. She arrived in the nick of time, and got a seat as far from me as possible. I was back, stage left. She was forward, stage right. But I noticed her.

Weeks has passed, assignments had flew by, until one day we had a peer revision day. I arrived late and my professor just stuck me in whatever group I could be in, this girl was in that group. For those of you who don't know, peer revision is "Chat-time" and will always be completely useless in a school setting so her and I started talking. While we were talking I noticed her dyed blue-ish black-ish hair, and her Hello Kitty folders in her organizer. It wasn't a trapper keeper, sadly, just some sort of organizer. And I knew she was infinitely cooler that me when I noticed one of her folder had the punk-rock hello kitty on it:



Then she asked how I actually was in english, to which I responded, I was the absolute best there was. She told me that she actually needed someone to help her, and she asked me.

"Abso-fucking-lutely" I said, only showing how great I was in english.

So I told her that we could go back to my house and I would help her out. And so the story would end her, or so I thought. I mean, she was way to cool for me, I mean:



So I picked her up the next day from her house, and began the trek to mine. She got in my car with all her stuff. Her backpack, and:



The odd thing was she had a blanket with her. I asked her what it was and she said that she couldn't fall asleep without it.

Okay, apparently this woman thinks she's spending the night, I thought. But you won't hear a single peep out of me.


Her and I talk about everything while MP3 player blares all of the normal, abnormal, stuff it does, in fact, blare. Marilyn Manson's "The Dope Show" comes on, and she immediately speaks up, "I love stuff like this, I know it's weird, but it puts me in the mood."

Now... I don't know how many of you know that I'm a complete nymphomaniac, but I am. And when anything is preceded by "In the mood" we see our opening. It can range from nail through the penis, to skinning a cat alive, we see an opening and we will take it, oh god will we take it.

I start showing her Fantomas:



I show her Melt-Banana:



I show her Dillinger Escape Plan:



And I show her Sleepytime Gorilla Museum:



And she loves them all, and finally we arrive back at my house.

The car ride went off without a hitch. Her and I do the whole study thing (for real) but that only lasts until the time the sun sets, and which point I ask her what she wants to do. Her eyes dart around a while until she finds my DVD collection.

She screams "Oh my god! Do you have the Mr. Plow episode of Simpsons on DVD"

Is this the girl of my dreams, or what? "Of course I have it on DVD."

I put it on and we begin watching it. Halfway through she grabs her blanket, leans on me, and starts cuddling up close to me.

I completely approve.

The Simpsons is just about over and she raises her head up and starts making out with me. I pull her back, look her directly in the eyes, and say, "Are you kidding me? We can do all this when this episode is over."

She obliges, and we wait.

As soon as the credits are rolling by she grabs my hand and leads me to my bedroom, at which point we start "going at it." Just it case anyone's children is reading.

For all the grown-ups... We started fucking.

Halfway through my lips started hurting because she had two lip rings. I ask her to take them out because they are actually starting to poke at me, and we continue.

She stops it again, and I ask "what's wrong?" To which she replies, "Nothing, I just have to take my nipple rings out they're starting to hurt me.

Okay! How'd I miss those. Kidding! I'm glad she took them out because they were cute yes, but they were dangly stars. And not dull stars either, they were like shurikens digging into her and my skin.

Alright, we're ready, let's go!

After a couple hours we finish up, and we get ready for bed. This girl exhausted me, but apparently I couldn't return the favor because the next morning I woke up and my house was clean.

I need to go back and marry her!

Her and I spend the rest of the day eating Airheads taffy, making out, and just talking. I drive her home. And on a weekly bases her and I are sleeping together, in every which way.

....

...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fast forward about six months.

I am a man that has needs. This girl is completely out of my life because we hit some turbulance, and I'm single. I go about doing what single guys do. Oggling women from porn. I hop on my torrent server and I start downloading porn left and right.

I spot a Suicide Girls torrent.

For those of you who doesn't know what Suicide Girls are it's a porn site in which the girls are somewhat "gothic." I find them all very attractive so I download that file immediately. In fact, if I do recall correctly, I made it a "top priority" download. It finally finished.


'Mmm. Gothic Girls. Delish.

I scroll through hundreds of pictures, literally. Until I stop.

Oh no...

Oh God know.

Oh JESUS GOD KNOW!!

Jesus-Titty-Fucking-Christ!!!!!

JESUS-TITTY-FUCKING-CHRIST-TAP-DANCING-ON-A-TELEPHONE-POLE-WITH-CRUTCHES!!!!

At this point my eyebrows raised so high they were in orbit, my jaw was somewhere in the earths crust, and my socks flew off only to go around the world, hit me in the back of the head, knocking the socks that I had just put on off my feet, only to do the same thing.

It's her. She's staring back at me. Only... She's on my computer. In a porn file:



As my jaw lay open, I reached for my cell phone.

"Hello. I'd like to schedule an STD test."

It sure is hard to talk when you can't close your mouth.

It came back negative, all sorts of negative.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I slept with a porn star.

You meet a lot of people in college. And that surely doesn't mean that you won't meet, nor sleep with, a porn star.

-------------------------------

Now I know I have to get this out of the way before e-mails come my way.

How was she?

She was great. She was good in bed. Good stamina, knew what to do, but, believe it or not, she wasn't the best.

I have mentally put the girl best at giving head on a pedestal, and the girl best at sex on a pedestal, and there they will remain.

There's also pedestals for the absolute worst in show.

And then a plateau that includes all the people, whom, no matter how long I dated, never got any better at all. Those people are weird.

People may wonder who these people are, and I will never post it on a myspace because, according to Craig, sexual lawsuits can be a big pain.

But let me tell you most girls, when I ask for head look like this:<br>


The girl at the top of the pedestal, the number one head-giver, because best at head beats out best at sex just a little bit, looked like this when asked:



















I think I've made my point. She made me so happy.

This blog, sadly, doesn't pertain to the sex one that I'm going to be writing, but that will be the next one. This one simply states that I've given up on the second blog.

I can't force these things, they just have to come naturally, and I'm trying to force the second one.

Before I get all those e-mails saying, "What the hell, this isn't your normal calibur stuff." Don't forget that I'm more than well aware that this blog and the last one was not, indeed, funny.

But, oh man, if I were trying to be funny, you would have split your side, so don't send me those e-mails!!! Because this is how I feel:

I don't think you people understand what it takes to make it as a "Shannon Blog." It takes wit, it takes being clever, it takes undeniable punctuation and word use; and, most importantly, it takes a story so bold, so daring, that it is irresetable to every reader in the myspace community.

Or, at least, that's what I have noticed.

Somehow my blogs have captured peoples' hearts, and so when I write a new one it has to be fresh and new. I promised everyone three blogs. That's right three, and three I will deliver, as promised.

Much like essays these three pieces will all be different, though they maintain towards a central thesis, the thesis being that I am completely awesome, and hip. I believe the first and third one cover this agenda swimmingly, but that's the problem, the second one (since it's the worse it's being buried in the middle like an essay) isn't that great.

Admittedly I had only planned for two blogs, which will end up being the first one and the last one, which leaves me here, gasping for breath on the second.

So I thought and thought. I could give you stories that have to do with my love life, but ever since TMI and the last blog I post (not ever don't worry) I feel as if it wouldn't suffice for my readers.

So.... here's what I did.

I thought.

And thought.

And thought.

Until it hit me, this does not count as the second blog. That blog will come soon, but it will take some work. It will be a tour de force, but it will take me a week or two to finish. That's right, a week or two. It's that extavagant. So in the mean time, so I can stop with the "Where's your new blog dipshit?" E-mails, I shall post all my rejected blog ideas for the pre-second blog. Keep in mind that this does not count towards my three.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. MCM

This blog was about Mussonlini's Candy Makers. My band:

http://www.myspace.com/candymakers if you're curious.

It fits the criteria of me being awesome, but it just doesn't fit enough space. I could go the "my band is the best band in the world" tripe, which it is, but that just didn't work for me.

2. TMI Part IV

 I was going to go this route and post a "ha ha got you!" but I just feel as if South Park has done that one too many times for me to go and do it again.

3. Words You Use, By Me.

This blog was going to be about how everyone I talk to picks up my mannerisms. They way I talk, my stupid ghetto/internet speak, IE "Yo yo yo, and BTW," all that stuff. Fits the criteria, but I know all you people, and you know that you to it, that's no fun.

4. I am oh-so hot, here's why.

I actually got e-mails from people saying that the reason people were so obsessed with me was because of my looks. Now now I know I'm attractive (:-p) but I was going to disect why.

This blog was going to consist of every celebrity I looked alike, it would include a picture of me and the celebrity, and that was just stupid, it was trashed immediately.

5. I like it, and you don't. I win.

I recently purchased Stranger than Fiction, which is one of my favorite comedies, and I couldn't help but think that there was someone, somewhere that didn't like it.

Then I thought about Arrested Development, a sit-com to smart for most people, Animaniacs, a brilliant cartoon no one would give a chance because it's just that, a brilliant cartoon, movies like Pan's Labrynth, which was great. Beautiful, well directed, great great drama. One of the best movies of the year, given it's only been 2 month into the year, but I doubt someone will top that. And people refuse to see it because it's in spanish. Let's move on with how dumb that is.

So this blog was going to go into great detail about how everything I love is the best thing ever, and should not be questioned because, trust me, it is great. Then I was going to go into detail about one great man, and that man is Don Hetrzfeldt. He's an experimental cartoonist who is brilliant, whoever doesn't see that (trust me multiple people hate him with a burning passion) should be shot into the sun, because they know neither what art nor humor is. Enjoy:

Also, if you don't like the random stuff, try the first Google video, it's more straightforward and HI-larious.







And for those of you who want to see what Don Hertzfeldt does outside the Animation show:

I really recommend this one:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3622785839468231594&q=Don+Hertzfeldt

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4862881894850948938&q=Don+Hertzfeldt

Enjoy everyone!

See you in a couple weeks!

Back by popular request are Shannon's blog updates, and like all good things it will come in three. I will make three blog posts whenever I get around to it, but expect them because they are coming. None of them will have to do with eachother, all of them will have to do with different subjects, and god knows like most things I do, the last one will conclude with a fun litty ditty I like to call "WTF is going on with Shannon's sex life?" And, as confirmed by my last blogs, it is always a delightful romp. As for this post? It really has to do with just how much better I am than everyone else.

Within the past month, and I am not exaggerating, I believe there has been at least one person, corresponding with each day of the month, and for arguments sake let's say that this month is February (so that makes 28 people, that have told me that I am completely and utterly full of myself.

These people don't know eachother, I don't know why they say these things, but what I do know is that when I told my sister that I was going to ask the internet about it, she said "You really need to ask people why they think that you're full of yourself?"

So we'll call that 29 people, it's February on a leap year.

So I've done some reflecting. Some pondering, if you will. About me. About what could possibly lead people to think that I'm completely full of myself.

I came up with this conclusion:

I'm not full of myself at all, however, people view me as the person I am and become obsessed, fixated, on certain features of me, and when they realize their complete obsession with these things, they blame me for jedi-mind-tricking their minds into being obsessed with me.

That only lead me to a quest for another answer:

What are these features? So I sat, and thought:

Could it be my rugged good looks? My body which seems to be sculpted from the most talented sculpters? My deep set, intense brown eyes? My Video collection, book collection, video game collection? My ninety gigs of music? My prodigious writing talent, which includes, but is not limited to, my music and my fiction?

My enormous wit? My extensive vocabulary? My unparalleled talent to get a girls phone number? The amount of confidence I have while confronted by the opposite sex? My great friends, family, co-workers?

My looks? I only mention it again, because it's got to be on the list. The type of girls I attract?

All these thoughts swarmed through my head, until, today. I narrowed it down to four things, and it begins (of course this is in order of least to most important, like my blog entries):

I've narrowed it down to four things:

1. My new "messy" look haircut:

This is apparently what it looks like as I sing along with Lit:



This is my sexy face, minus half the face:



2. I got the Wii on release day, and not only have I loved it every day I've had it, but now they're very, very hard to find. Just look at it:





3. My awesome, awesome new shoes:







These remind my of Claire, because of how gawdy they are, but I love them oh-so-much. I tell people that I made them from pieces of old shoes.

And lastly, and more importantly:

4. This one speaks for itself, all you need to know is a very, very sweet girl made it for me, check it out:





The phrase "Ahh! It really is that good" is from said comic (check here for the reference http://www.penny-arcade.com/comic/2001/07/23), but I'd like to say that it's more about how I am in bed.

Whether I'm right or wrong, and I'm sure I'm right like I always am. If those aren't why people are obsessing over me, which leads directly to why they think I'm full of myself, then I don't know why they're doing it. Though the other reasons mentioned above aren't far off, I'm sure.

I figure "Here ' Goes" should have an apostrophe in it considering that I'm omitting a whole word (it). I know it's wrong, but I prefer it that way.

Anyway.... Here ' Goes.

My life's been excellent lately, no griefs or grievences, but I have a lot of explaining to do, mostly on one subject:

I told a lot of you that I was going to move to Tennessee. I meant it, but now, it certainly is not the case.

One by one I told everyone who had ever cared about me about the move, and it was going swimmingly, but then the time came. Hordes of people begged me not to move because they needed me. People whom I thought were otherwise uninterested told me that they loved me and needed me, best friends said that their lives would be hard without me and cried.

Then I realized that I can't. I'm moving not for any other reason than I want to. It's not life threatening, and if it doesn't happen it really isn't going to affect me. But there are people here who need me, and it wasn't tell recently that I found out that they actually do need me, and I thank everyone for that.
Now my life is on track here, I'm going to a "real" college next semester and never looking back at a community college. I've started writing again and I'm seeing a wonderful girl. Who, like the previous one, kicks all my ass at everything I love, and I love it. And I can't wait to see where this relationship goes. If it does go anywhere, but it has potential.

Here, my life is crazy, it hectic, and shit that happens to me will never happen to anyone else... ever. People threaten, stalk, and curse my name on a daily bases. The girl I'm seeing now, before she even knew, me caugh wind of who I was by someone else and it almost made her not want to be with me, until she actually, really, got to know me.

Here I can go to Quizno's and here Karrie bitch about how much she hates her job, and listen to Mitch talk about his new born child, and order the "regular." I can go to Family Video and get free videos. I can go to Subway and get free subs.

I've made my mark here, and why would I want to establish this whole foundation again?

I love it here.

I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner, and I apoligize to everyone I hurt, but I'm staying now, and I'll slowly try to make it better.

That's right everyone it's time for a part 3!

This will be the end of my saga and it's a "get off the cross someone needs the wood thing."

My flooded inbox had started to lead me to believe that I was, somehow, in the wrong. Which is odd because, frankly, I can't remember one time in my life when I was wrong about anything. Then I realized that everyone that was pissed off at me had dated me at one point or another, or they were friends of people who had dated me. What the fuck you guys? Are your lifes that pathetic that you have to continually F5 my myspace until you see some juicy gossip that might somehow offend you?

I know that half of you are those pathetic people who post bulletins that consist of the words "talk to me," "message me," and "I'm a lonely pathetic worm who can't be alone with her thoughts for more than three seconds for the love of fuck give me some sort of validation and reassure that I have some sort of so-called friends before I fall into some sort of depression vortex that leads to me crying on the phone for an hour because no one likes me." I may have paraphrased the last one, but I swear to god I've seen it a couple times in a few people bulletins.

If you people are so pre-occupied with my life I recommend going outside, giong to a party, hanging out with friends (given half the people sit on myspace anyway when this is happening you fuck-o's), doing anything, everything, other than stare at the myspace blue screen. Trust me, I realize the irony in posting something like this on myspace, but this is the only time I will be here today before I go live my life!

And all the girls I've dated in the past 2 or 3 months really need to get a life. God forbid I didn't have sex with you or broke your heart, I can smell the jealousy through my computer and, frankly, the stench is overwhelming. Grow up and get off myspace for a minute!


Now that that's done, let's look at some positive reviews from friends of mine, and people who thought it was funny:

"After laughing. Raises hand "do you look for girls like this?"

"Wanna go get your contacts back, it'll be even funnier"

"*High Five*" (That was my sister)

"Don't you lie to me. That window was shattered by orgasmic force wasn't it? I say kudos to you!"

"What do you do to girls, is your penis made of gold?"

"Oh my God!!!!.................................................. Hilarious"

"That situation must have been such an adrenaline rush though...not knowing what to do and totally out of the blue. So I take nothing againts you. In fact I was thinking...wow are you serious? she's gonna kill herself cuz he denied her sex even though they'd been doing it all day?? DAMN... i'm sure you put a good performance already...and she should be grateful!!! not many guys can go on all day like that. Gotta appreciate the talent. ;)"


So now, all I have to say is:

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Let me start off by saying that some people were... well.... offended by my previous post. Maybe they don't like reading about me doing a girl doggie style, perhaps they don't enjoy that I mentioned that me leaving a girl for dead was "gentlemanly." They asked about my sense of decency and accused me of being a hateful bastard. They said I had a mean heartless soul, and I've gotten so much press because of it that I don't know what to think. People sitting around and imagining me laughing about this with all my friends. Well? It's true.

A girl killing herself? All in a normal days work for Shannon. A girl begging to have sex with him..... normal. His friends asking him if he has a dick of gold? normal..... The aforementioned girl waking up only to find herself drenched in her own vomit only to proceed to call me again and again and again until I have to have my mom drop me off at Rob's because of how terrifying her threats are.... You guessed it.... All in a days work. Lastly, these letters were concluded with a "you're going to die alone!" Apparently I was mistaking in thinking that the acts mentioned in the first post were, basically, an aphrodisiac for not only the opposite sex, but for the same sex as well. My bad, I figured that girls would be knocking down my door after I hit the "post" button. FUCK! What have I done? Hindsight is 20/20 and I messed up big time. I mean seeing as everyone who yelled at me are, in fact, masters of not only their love-life, but everything the universe holds for them, I obviously see the error of my ways.

Fuck, what have I done?

Well, you can't change the past, so let this be an open letter to those people:

I have never given so much as a care in the world about what any of you have ever thought about me or the things that I do ever. Ever? Ever.

Now that all that has been set aside, here's TMI part 2!

Since my latest bruh-ha-ha has gotten so much press I need not address it again, you know what happened.

So, today, I woke up and after that very fateful night I grabbed everything that I could remember, however, I didn't remember my contacts so I'm stuck in my glasses. I made an appointment today to get some more contacts and I went to get into my car only to notice something odd..... Check it out:













Notice something wrong? God know I do.

Do I think I deserve it? Fuck Yes! I'm an asshole.

Do I still think it was (somehow) worth $150?.... Definitely.

Well.... I'm off to die alone, I'm going to call Claire, or Kim, or Lisa, or Jessica, or Mallory, or Heather, or Tamara, or Nicole, or Meghan, or Megan, or Esther, or.....

Do you see where I'm going with this?