You Can Do It Two

Kinda forgot for a while. Never fret.

I shaved my goatee/mustache combo last night. To be honest, I don't really know why. As a young male, you look up to older males. Generally, the older males you looked up to had facial hair. It was a symbol of wisdom and status. Hell, it just looked cool. After having facial hair covering a good portion of my face for a quarter of a year, I seriously forgot what my face looked like underneath. I plan on growing it back out. I also plan on utilizing the time lapse feature on my camera and taking a picture everyday while it grows back. Expect a video in the future, chronicling my facial growth.

This past weekend dusted off my longboards and went skating. As much as I "love" my job at the pharmacy, it's been cutting into my leisure time, mostly my gym and skate time. Major bummer.

I started drinking coffee recently. I'm kind of surprise, but in the same breath, I can say that I'm not.

Random picture/story time. Ha. I get to kill two birds with one stone, which is physically impossible, unless the birds are right next to each other. That and you have a rock the size of Rosanne Barr.

I had roommate in college. One could say that he was a very outdoorsy type person. One could also say that he was a redneck. You be the judge. I mean, the guy used to sit on the back porch with his rifle and get our dinner. Forgive me, I'm digressing from my original story. One Friday, my roommate went hunting. For what? I don't remember. When I got home from usual Friday night shenanigans, my roommate was in his room. I went in and began chatting with him, since I hadn't seen him all day. He told me how he had went hunting but didn't get what he was looking for. He did, however, manage to pop a squirrel out of a tree. One could say that it was probably because the opportunity presented itself at in opportune time. Or, one could say it was probably because he was bored. You be the judge. So, he tells me that he killed a squirrel and put in the refrigerator. Now, in my mind, I thought he had killed it, cleaned it, and put the edible meat in a baggy or maybe some Tupperware. I bid my roommate a good night, then head off to bed. My hunger pangs wake me up the next day around 10. I roll out of bed, and make a mad dash for the kitchen. I get my bowl of cereal ready, minus the milk. I move toward the 'fridge and open the door. What do I see? This:

Scared the shit out of me. What's even more awkward is that there's a half drunken beer next to him. It's like someone said, "Boy, this beer was filling. I can't finish the rest. Here you go, Dead Squirrel, you can have the rest."

Sleep. Sleep. sleeeeeeeep