Yay for christmas. I finally got the James Blunt CD from my sister! I also got Death Cab For Cutie's Cd, an iPod docking station, a journal, Will and Grace season 4, Chocolates, a Kim Possible towel, a book by Jimmy Fallon, SNL best of Gilda Radner along with a couple other things. Thank you so much to everyone who got me presents! Emily--The pillow is SO nice! I slept on it and it was like BAZOING!, Alyssa--Thanks fo the journal, ill be done with it soon enough :D, Nelly--That movie rocked! We should watch it together sometime, Lynne--the makeup is all sparkly and pretty! The purple looks haute!, Logan--AHHH SPIDERMAN RULES!! the blankets sofffft! best present evah!, Tboz--Thanks for the candle! Now we can be all romantic and stuff ;), Everyone else rocks! Cant wait to see you guys! Maybe at dani's partay? Ill bring my iPod thing and crank some tunes. if thats ok with her mom that is. Peace out

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I remember I was hammering on a fence in the backyard when Dad approached. He was carrying a letter or something in his hand, and he looked worried. I continued to hammer as he came toward me. "Son," he said, "why are you hammering on that fence? It already has plenty of nails in it." "Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering. Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled. I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first-" Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammerdog. Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and made me stop. "I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said. I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field. And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that, I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me. "Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!" But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him. Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with drugs, I like to tell him this story.

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Mr. T once pitied himself accidently. This is otherwise known as the end of dinosaurs.
The probability that Mr. T pities you is equal to (the probability that you are a human) / (the probability that you are not Mr. T)

Mr. T is a very superstitious man. If Mr. T walks across the path of a black cat, it means bad luck for everyone.

There is no I in team, but there is a T in team...this is not a coincidence.

Contrary to popular belief, the T actually stands for time. As in you have none left, fool.

God created black ice out of Mr. T’s sweat, allowing nature a way to “Pity the fool.”

Mr.T actually invented Pita Bread. But he accidently named it Pity Bread, and it was therefore shunned by the Jewish church.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas... except for Mr. T.

At the wrap party after the final episode of "The A-Team", Mr. T got into a heated argument with a drunken Dirk Benedict. Dirk Benedict has not been seen or heard from since.

If a tree falls in a forest while no one is there to witness it, does it actually make a sound? Well, that depends. Does Mr. T want it to?

Mr. T was the only kid at his high school. His high school was undefeated in all sports for the one year it took him to graduate. This is not surprising considering he invented every sport.

God did not create everything in seven days. On the first day, he created Mr. T, and then Mr. T finished the rest.

A rapper once accused Mr. T of being "on the Jazz". Hearing this, Mr. T slammed his fist into the person's face so hard that it melted two of his rings on the person's face, creating Flava Flav's signature gold teeth.

Human beings know not the sound of silence. What we consider silence is actually the sound Mr. T makes as he pities fools in your vicinity.

Mr. T recently opened a Psychic hotline, one in which he takes every call. No matter the question he is asked, he gives only one response: "My prediction? Pain." He then goes out and personally pummels each caller witin an inch of their life, because Mr. T can never be wrong.

The A-Team was not created to fight crime. It was created to keep Mr. T from kicking too much batooty.

Mr. T considers words such as "rents" and "skewl" to be Jibba-Jabba.

This years unfortunate Tsunami was actually caused by Mr. T, while vacationing in Bora Bora he farted while swiming in the ocean, causing the massive title wave...he quickly drove his GMC van over the ocean to help the survivors by donating half of his gold chains, which amounted to the largest contribution of any sovereign nation. Mr. T since has had a seat on the U.N national security council.

Jesus once said: "Whosoever shall say, 'Thou fool,' shall be in danger of hell fire, unless thou art Mr. T." (Matthew 5:22)

Mr. T does not use planes because he is able to force any destination to travel to HIM.

If Chuck Norris, Mr. T, and Vin Diesel accompanied each other in singing the Song that Never Ends, God would explode.

Contrary to popular belief America did not withdraw from the Vietnam war because of a stalemate nor did the Vietnamese defeat the Americans upon withdrawal. Mr. T was dropped into the bush and he annhilated both forces causing the Americans to call for a full scale retreat and the citizens were left as subjects to the new ruler. For global trade and world peace policies the country kept its original name though to those who live under the rule of the undisputed dictator, its true name is: T-etnam.

When he goes rock climbing, Mr. T puts vegetable oil on his hands instead of powder just to make it challenging.

Studies show that pity from Mr. T has the same effect on the human body as an ingested frag grenade.

Mr.T's gold chains are not made of gold, but rather are the souls of the fools he has pityed.

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COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!COMMENT ON THIS POST!!!!!

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At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist," because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw fuck you, get outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
I'd like to be buried Indian-style, where they put you up on a high rack, above the ground. That way, you could get hit by meteorites and not even feel it.
If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
I bet when the neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.
Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaught on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, Batman."
Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.

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SNL DVD's: I currently own: (see the picture if you're too lazy to read all this) Adam Sandler, Jimmy Fallon, Molly Shannon, Tracy Morgan, Phil Hartman, Eddie Murphy, John Belushi, the 25 Anniversary Special, Mike Meyers, Chris Farley, Will Ferrell, Will Ferrell Volume 2, and Christopher Walken.
Will and Grace season 4
Ipod Stuff
Popcorn Tin
Makeup (nice makeup like Chanel and MAC and Lancome etc)
Jewelry ( I like standoutish stuff and my ring size is 4.5)
A Journal ( Lined, pref with a marker and non-ringed binding)
Ballet Flats (size 8)
Comedy Books (good writers are Jon Stewart, Jimmy Fallon, Lewis Black etc)
Magazine subscriptions (I already have seventeen, CosmoGirl, In Style and Teen People)
Scarfs, aka bufandas
Posters and other various room decor
Sweet Lovin'
A Mickey Mouse Phone!!
Better Cellular Phone
Tickets to the Oveture Center
Chocolate
Classic Movies
CD's: James Blunt,Death Cab For Cutie, Fiona Apple, Jack Johnson, Coldplay, OC Music
Clothes (I'm usually an adult small for shirts)
Totes, bags etc

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My sins would best be described in a monolouge from the made for TV movie "Sybil" starring Sally Feild as a woman with a multiple personality disorder.

Ah, look at you my pretty little girl, sitting there with her face all painted up and a little halter top, you're nothing but a little slut.

Don't call me that. I'm a Puerto Rican lady senor.

You're nothing but a little slut Sybill Ann Dorsett. We all know you're a slut!

NO! I'm not! I'm not a slut! I'm not a slut! I'm not a slut! I'm not a slut!I'm not a slut! I AIN'T NO SLUT!!!!

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