A few months some dip-shit from Indiana posted something talking shit about WMU's football team losing to IU. Out of the blue I get this message from this card carrying douchebag:
Hey Andrew- Congrats on a fantastic season- See you at a bowl game..........Oh wait your team was the bitch of your league while mine is heading to a post season so go fuck youself my friend because while you are #1 wrong about guessing how Indiana will end up in their division-and #2 you supported the wrong team once again. Soooooo. Have a happy Thanksgiving knowing that you should be thankful that I never will meet you at a bar because I never socialize the ugly rundown townie bars that you might visit because I'm of a higher class than you will ever be of. Never ever ever ever send me another message telling me to check how stupid you are because you are so stupid, ugly, and will amount to the person who collect my garbage you stupid piece of shit.... I'm glad my garbage will be handled by a loser like yourself.Have a great time knowing you were the bitch of your league,Mike MacDonald (my team still has something to play for)
MY RESPONSE:
Actually, my team is MSU.
Nevertheless, when I'm out of law school ill be glad to represent you when you get dragged into court for beating you wife.
Just because your dad did it does not make it ok.
cheers
---
Some people take stuff too seriously.... above I just wanted to type this statment again, becuase it is soooo classy:
Never ever ever ever send me another message telling me to check how stupid you are because you are so stupid, ugly, and will amount to the person who collect my garbage you stupid piece of shit.... I'm glad my garbage will be handled by a loser like yourself.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Law School Hatn'
As a good warm up to the pissing in the dishwasher story, here is a quickie.
Sitting in class, there is a certain fear about getting called on. Law school is very intimidating at times, and when your asked a question, and you have no idea what the answer is, a slight panic sets in.
This very thing happened with a person I sit next to, and for reasons not worth blessing with you with, we don't see eye to eye. Regardless, she was called on in class, and doing pretty good, I will give her that.
But then she was asked something she did not know, so I decided to help her out. I murmured the answer under my breath just loud enough for her to hear it, in which she relayed it back to the teacher, who frowned, and said no.
Naturally, I raised my hand and gave the teacher the right answer.
Lesson learned, don't believe everything you hear....
Sitting in class, there is a certain fear about getting called on. Law school is very intimidating at times, and when your asked a question, and you have no idea what the answer is, a slight panic sets in.
This very thing happened with a person I sit next to, and for reasons not worth blessing with you with, we don't see eye to eye. Regardless, she was called on in class, and doing pretty good, I will give her that.
But then she was asked something she did not know, so I decided to help her out. I murmured the answer under my breath just loud enough for her to hear it, in which she relayed it back to the teacher, who frowned, and said no.
Naturally, I raised my hand and gave the teacher the right answer.
Lesson learned, don't believe everything you hear....
Your Dishes Are Done...
Back when I lived in Kalamazoo, I did a lot of stupid stuff... well, I guess it just depends on what type of person you are. Take the following story for example...
It was a long night of boozing, and for some reason I ended up back at this girls apartment. The reason I say "for some reason" is that im 99% sure that I didn't hang out with this girl at all, the entire night.
The events leading up to it, such as where I was prior, how I got there, or even how I got home, are still a little hazy... But what I do vaguely recall, is workin' my way into her gully hole. I wouldn't call this girl a slut, but let's just say that it didnt take much time for me to get in pole position, but that is not the point of the story.
After my 3 hour clinic of having biblical relations (or a drunken, sloppy, five minutes of playing jump rope with her vagine), I paid her and left.
No seriously, after it was done, I really had to take a piss. I really, really, really, had to take a piss. Now if your a woman reading this right now, well number one, you cant respect the inability a man has when trytin' got take piss when his cock is in the towel rack position. Regardless, its hard to do, you get the picture. But of course, the girl went to the bathroom, because that's what they do after sex. So here I am, with my hand on my cock, trying to hold in one of the most epic pisses in my life.
Then it dawns on me... I can just go in the sink. Brilliant. So all I had to do is go to the kitchen and do my thing. Unfortunately, the logistics were flawed from the beginning. The counter is about level with my rod, so I had to go tippy-toe in order to get into firing position.
Talk about a feat of strengths... pissing with an erection alone is almost difficult- pissing with an erection on your tippy-toes is harder than Iron Man's erection.
So naturally the proverbial light goes off above my head, and I look down at the dishwasher. This was almost more convenient than a urinal. I opened the door, and let loose. By the time I heard her flush I was just about done... I closed the door and I was on my way. Maybe I should have set the dial to regular wash, since I already did the pre-wash cycle.....
It was a long night of boozing, and for some reason I ended up back at this girls apartment. The reason I say "for some reason" is that im 99% sure that I didn't hang out with this girl at all, the entire night.
The events leading up to it, such as where I was prior, how I got there, or even how I got home, are still a little hazy... But what I do vaguely recall, is workin' my way into her gully hole. I wouldn't call this girl a slut, but let's just say that it didnt take much time for me to get in pole position, but that is not the point of the story.
After my 3 hour clinic of having biblical relations (or a drunken, sloppy, five minutes of playing jump rope with her vagine), I paid her and left.
No seriously, after it was done, I really had to take a piss. I really, really, really, had to take a piss. Now if your a woman reading this right now, well number one, you cant respect the inability a man has when trytin' got take piss when his cock is in the towel rack position. Regardless, its hard to do, you get the picture. But of course, the girl went to the bathroom, because that's what they do after sex. So here I am, with my hand on my cock, trying to hold in one of the most epic pisses in my life.
Then it dawns on me... I can just go in the sink. Brilliant. So all I had to do is go to the kitchen and do my thing. Unfortunately, the logistics were flawed from the beginning. The counter is about level with my rod, so I had to go tippy-toe in order to get into firing position.
Talk about a feat of strengths... pissing with an erection alone is almost difficult- pissing with an erection on your tippy-toes is harder than Iron Man's erection.
So naturally the proverbial light goes off above my head, and I look down at the dishwasher. This was almost more convenient than a urinal. I opened the door, and let loose. By the time I heard her flush I was just about done... I closed the door and I was on my way. Maybe I should have set the dial to regular wash, since I already did the pre-wash cycle.....
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