Douche Bag

Oh hey Internet, I missed writing to you.

Pretty average week at school. Hey, at least the Internet, printer and photocopier weren't all broken at once like last Monday so this what you would call winning the small battles. Speaking of winning, twinning. Jersey shore is so good right now. Mike is a douchebag.

What else did I do this week you didn't ask? Well, I channeled 'Grade 9 Mark' and bought the new Limp Bizkit album Gold Cobra on Itunes. Let's dissect this for a second. Not only did I pay for music in 2011, but I paid for a Limp Bizkit album in 2011. More so, I paid money to a 40 year old douchebag in Fred Durst in 2011.

For this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_i_qxQztHRI&ob=av2e

Now who's the douchebag?

Going to Sky Bar tonight for a drink. You may have seen it, it was in the Hangover 2, filmed all over Thailand. Drinks cost about an arm and a leg - about 500 baht ($15-16 Canadian) each, so I figure I'll sacrifice a leg, since I only have one functioning arm at the moment. I'd rather lose an arm than drink wine, though.

Kind of bummed to have missed Blink and Rancid in Winnipeg. Heard it was an unreal show. 'Grade 9 Mark' is making another appearance, saying, "I'm jealous". He is also speaking with braces, acne and glasses.

Also crushed to be missing my boy (and man crush) Sam Roberts when he rolls through town soon. I think Natalie and I are going to try to get tickets to see Linkin Park in Bangkok in September. I think it would be a really cool show to be honest, since I have heard their live show is something to be seen live, and while I'm not familiar with their last couple of albums, they only have four albums total, so 'Grade 9 Mark' still knows half of their set-list. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose.

Next weekend, the plan is to head to Koh Samet and get 'blond girl drunk' and try to not leave the island with any new injuries. Except pride and/or dignity, but those are already damaged goods and don't even need a band-aid! Actually, we need to try to book it home kind of soon from Samet so I can get to about my fourth appointment at the hospital to get this sweaty, yogurt and-pasta sauce covered stinkrag of a cast off of my arm. I'll be getting a removable cast for the next 6 weeks, so until mid-October. Yes, mid-October, so approximately (maybe exactly, we'll see) to the day that my holidays END. At least I can take the cast off at that point when I want to go into the ocean, unlike next weekend when I'll be "that guy" who is waist-deep with my arm in the air trying to avoid waves like I avoid ..... (adjective-noun).

I had nothing witty to write there, so rather than hover over a keyboard early on a Saturday morning, that probably means I'm done. Woo woo woo, you know it.