Asshole Avenue Shipping turtles.
Sunday, 10/06/02 - 3:35 pm.

Last night I finally ordered Disney's Magic Artist Cartoon Maker from amazon.com. I was thrilled, but when I found out the date I'll get it, my excitement decreased. Due to several factors, I'll be getting it in the middle of november. It sucks, because my brother ordered a CD and he's getting it in one-two weeks. Well, he would. We're getting everything in one package. So it sucks more for him. The DMACM ships within two weeks, the CD within 24 hours.

All of a sudden, somebody inserted one more week in time. And now I have three more weeks of school. Gee, I could've sworn there were only two left. But who's counting, anyway?

Simeon: you are.

Well, yeah...right.

This week I'm planning on getting my UCA application. I'm not thrilled at all, college stuff is very complicated. But I suppose you get used to it. If that wasn't the case, there'd be a higher rate of suicides.

I'm watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II. Again. Plus, since I really have nothing interesting to tell (nothing new has been added to this, except that in the morning I got pissed because of potential family issues that were actually just part of my imagination), I'll just copy and paste this story I found online. I'm performing it with a group of friends for an english project.

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For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone. Don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered saying:
- Hello?
I politely said:
- This is Fred Hanifin, could I please speak with Robin Carter?
Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

I tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her. (I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number). After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled:
- You're an asshole!
and hung up.

I wrote his number down, with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell:
- You're an asshole!

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole'' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said:
- Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with the caller ID program?
He yelled:
- NO!
And slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said:
- That's because you're an asshole!

So, one day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some boy in a black BMW cut me off, and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I�d better call the BMW asshole, too.

I dialed and someone said:
- Hello?
I said:
- Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?
- Yes it is.
- Can you tell me where I can see it?
- Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front.
- What's your name?
, I asked.
- My name is Don Hansen, he said.
- When's a good time to catch you, Don?
- I'm home every evening after five.
- Listen, Don, can I tell you something?
- Yes?
- Don, you're an asshole!

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came up with an idea: I called asshole #1.
- Hello?
- You're an asshole!
(but I didn't hang up.)
- Are you still there? he asked.
- Yeah.
- Stop calling me!, he screamed.
- Make me.
- Who are you? he asked.
- My name is Don Hansen.
- Yeah? Where do you live?
- Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house with my black Beemer out front.
- I'm coming over right now, Don. And you�d better start saying your prayers.
- Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole.

Then I called asshole # 2:
- Hello? he said.
- Hello asshole, I said.
- If I ever find out who you are...!!!!
- You'll what?
- I'll kick your ass!
he exclaimed.
- Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.

Then, I hung up, and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then, I called Channel 13 news about the gang war going down on West 34th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St.

There, I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars, a police helicopter, and news crew.

Now, I feel better.

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And I want to be a Ninja Turtle.

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