Cheers to Matt who put forth effort! You sir are NOT an asshat. Or should that be IS not an asshat. This is why I need a copy editor. Nope, fuck copy editors, this is my blog. Matt you sir is/are not an asshat.

Lysee has decided to hate me. Well not really. She is expecting a rant (or should be cause I told her to) but I'm not really in a ranting mood. Ish. She knows how I feel. Stupid-head has to be all up in Vancouver. Some days I almost wish I had pursued the cruise ship job and NOT gone to school. For about 2 seconds. I wanna travel. Looking into studying abroad, cause that would be absolutely super.

I find myself trying to organize the dozens and dozens of music videos I have bookmarked on Youtube. It's pretty much the whay I listen to music since switching computers sent me over a couch and showed me who was boss.

Who the hell knows what you mean, when you won't say what you mean. You are a stupid prick.

I can't tell if I had an awkward or exciting moment at work today. If awkward it wouldn't have been like calling out your sister's name in bed awkward, but maybe as awkward as being panted in front of a women's lacrosse team. And maybe not exciting because it could have been Spammy defensiveness in the form of being engaging and social. I just can't tell. Maybe being defensive while being panted in front of a women's lacrosse team?

I found something good that involves twilight!

If you believed that then I can/should/will kick you in the baby making parts. Nothing good comes from twilight. I refuse to even capitalize the word. This should convey my lack of respect love and understanding towards something that may have ruined Vampires and my favourite time of day forever. I wish Blade was in twilight, cause I'd sure as hell watch that, show them sparkly asshats who's boss.

I should explain something from my vocabulary that is kind of a Spammy thing. The word "Ish". It means both "amused" and "kinda" all at the same time. So if I said I like having sex with your mom. Ish. That means I only kinda like having sex with your mom but I find it amusing. Or I may be amused by the situation in general, it's flexible like that. So is your mom. Ish.

I'm doing that thing where I say I'm gonna behave myself and whatnot. One of those "This is the last time" things. Except for me it's always the "last time", until I do it again. I always do it again. I won't do it anymore....starting tommorow. So I'm trying to embrace the fact that my dating life is going to be batshit crazy.

That's me. Thinking birthday thoughts. Jay is so not invited.

Odd conversation tonight has me quite contemplative, and that feeling has been enhanced by the odd things that have happened around me. Weirdly appropriate songs hitting my playlist and the turn of phrase in a short story I was reading, none of which got my mind off things and all of which has led me here.

I'd like to think I have a pretty good idea of who I am and my goals for the future, and my attitude towards life in general. I suppose this is one of the times where most people ask their friends or family or people close to them to clarify or provide insight into this. I'm trying to avoid that. It's not that I don't trust my loved ones to paint an accurate picture of what I represent, not at all. It's just that I trust myself MORE. And why not? Only one person out there knows everything there is to know, everyone else has just bits and pieces. Some rather significant bits and pieces I might add, but bits and pieces nonetheless.

It's still difficult to define oneself, and it should be, I think. If it were easy I'd have less reason to listen to the music I do, read what I like, write how I like. If I had a easy time defining myself I wouldn't be me, which would defeat the whole point of the exercise, wouldn't it? But since I am me, the self exploration, the contemplation and the looking inward are all part of the package.

I could put down a whole list of things, what I am, what I think I am and what I want other people to think I am. But I don't think so, since I'm actually pretty content at the moment (even while over thinking things).

Besides, chances are if you're reading this you probably have a pretty good idea of who I am anyways. And if you don't: Hi! I'm Sam and this is my blog, if you're a single chick then I'm amazing in the sack. If you're taken or not my type I'm still amazing in the sack, you'll just never find out. The Dragon's name is Herbert. He's not interested.

That's me. Also, I am awesome.

If you read this, take the 2 minutes to make a profile and add youself as a follower. I have 2. One of them is me. Jay I know you fucking read this, do it or you're not invited to my birthday party!

I have Internet at home! It only took some pasta, a bottle of wine and a geeky movie! Not that I didn't do too badly while I didn't have Internet as easy and regular access to a couple of libraries did me quite well. Still, YAY! And maybe I get to talk at Lysee on MSN? I hope so. Not like she blogs or anything...

ALMOST FINISHED WITH MY STUPID PHONE SHIT!

I read a thousand pages yesterday. I didn't mean to, I swear! It just kinda happened. The weird thing I still had a productive day of errand running, mailing school stuff and going to the gym. I wonder if it's hobby hunting time.

I'm going to start carrying around an extra notebook or something in my pocket or backpack. Probably backpack as I tend to collect quite the assortment of necessary crap in my pockets. I keep finding stuff or thinking of stuff I want to blog and/or write about, but I can never quite remember everything when I actually get to a computer.

WEDNESDAY IS GARBAGE DAY.

Herbert want to blog. He seems to think I'm setting an example for him to unleash his wrath upon the Internet. I'm not sure that I do lots of wrath unleashing (not lately anywho) but he's pretty adamant. I'm not sure if he'll be posting her or starting up on one his own. We'll call it an experiment.

I was talking to this guy at the gym when he suddenly trailed off mid sentence. I swear I freaked for a second because I thought he was having a stroke. Then I saw what he saw: an epic set of legs and ass having a whole lot of trouble picking up her towel and water bottle. I may be a fucking pig (I even admit it) but it was definily a guy bonding moment. We fist bumped. And then I went over and helped her get her stuff. Her name is Jennifer. I'm a gentleman AND a pig, but at least I admit it.

I'd like pictures from the wedding to be posted. It's always fun seeing how much of a drunken ass you made of yourself after the fact. I might be cutting down on the drunken assness though, considering what happened the last time I drunk myself forgetful. Oh and beer is all empty calories. I might just switch back to exclusively tequila. Of course tequila does facilitate the whole drunken ass part.

Hmm it seems I'm in the midst of a dilemma.

That's me. No children under the age of 18 were harmed in the making of this blog...this time. Muahahahahahahahahahahahah.

Dear women: I'm sorry. I'm not sure what exactly I'm apologizing for but I'm sure I did something. So take your shot so we can move on. Please. Jay said something last night that both amused and distressed me: 1 or 2 it's coincidence, 3 or 4 is a pattern, 5 or 6 and you should have realized it's probably YOUR fault. So I guess I'm apologizing because it my fault? Maybe? Screw it.

I hate hate hate being sick. I missed out on Dad's birthday stuff, Trish's birthday stuff, a shift I needed at work, and getting my phone junk figured out so I can call people. Urgh. Liver I haven't forgotten about the call I owe you! I'm working on it.

Not to say I didn't do anything while I was sick, mind you. Herbert and I watched an assload of movies (assload = a small selection watched multiple times...I think). I found a copy of Constantine I didn't know I had. I cheered like a schoolboy, and then watched it everyday I was sick. 4 times if anyone's counting. I don't know why I love the movie so much, especially since after multiple viewings the plot holes and inconsistencies become really obvious. I just have this thing about Angels and Demons. And not just the Dan Brown book. Oh and Passive, damn but I love Passive. If I found a bar that played Passive I'd never go anywhere else.

Met back up with Darth Frankenstein. That was quite the pleasant surprise. He lives nearby and he's been helping me with workout and training goals and ideas, and despite my recent track record I've been giving him girl advice. He also wanders with music. Too bad he's in Toronto during the year and doesn't like facebook or msn.

Was slightly surprised and flabbergasted at work when one of my (very awesome) co-workers told me she read this after I posted the link. The link was meant for a specific person, but I figured why not go balls out and see who's interested. Turns out that's more people than I expected. I admit I panicked for a second or two, but that turned into a more contemplative process real quick fast and in a hurry.

I'm still not posting any of my stories though. This blog is for me and by me, it keeps me sane. It's an unpolished transcription of my very pronounced internal dialogue. But my "real" writing is a lot different. Maybe if I actually make a sale and get published "for real" instead of in online e-zines for next to nothing. I just don't have enough faith in my stories to show them to people whose opinions I care about. I'm worried I won't have much time for anything other than this blog and schoolwork come September and I don't like the idea. I'd still love to work on my writing but school has to take priority.

Anywho, that's me. Not sick and being productive!

Hello peoples of the world. Err like the 3 people who read this. However I'm being hardcore pressured to share this... so umm yeah, if you read this I like you :)

Liver and Eric's wedding was fun, the weekend was super awesome. However it did make me realize how many people I used to be close with and spend time with that I just don't anymore. Fuck that shit. When things finally get settled down I'm going to be collecting numbers and harassing people all across the province. Don't think I won't! But remind me... cause I'm dumb and forget such things too much as it is.

Oh and thanks to Matt for coming up with our catchphrase, which we probably overused. Fuck it, I'm epic. Words to bloody live by I think, and close enough to my recent attitude towards life that I had no problems with blurting it out every chance I got. And boy can drunk Spammy do some blurting.

So happy for Liver and Eric, the wedding was great (even if a bit too windy to hear what was reportedly an awesome back and forth speech at the alter). I always remember Eric as smiling, as that's pretty much all he does, but the whole day I never saw it drop once, buddy's face was fucking shining. One of these days I hope I can look like that, cause it was something special. And Liver, well I've spent YEARS trying to find someone as good as her at late night shlushee wandering, and some have come close, but you can't beat the original.

Damn but I miss em both.

That's me, picking courses for the fall!

FUCK IT, I'M EPIC!

Well that QUITE went down in flames, and not in the good way, like the band. The band In Flames is wicked. My love life in flames, not so much. Surprisingly not so bothered. I mean yes, disappointed, but I hate being the subject of gossip around work. Also shy and reserved doesn't really do it for me that much anymore. You seemed pretty cool and kooky enough that I was interested, but by no means were you my perfect date. I was just looking for someone cool to spend time with.

Lots of ill advised drinking though, that's a plus. Ahh I miss the Spammy/Allison drunken wandering of Guelph. I also like being called Spammy. A lot. I like having a name only people close to me refer to me as. Spammy likes :)

Liv and Eric's Wedding! Mmmm bridesmaids...

Jay should call me because he has a phone at home. He should call me after 7pm on Sunday or Monday night. If he checks this blog he should also check his facebook. If he doesn't check this blog he should be raped by a bear. A big fucking bear. Like bear cavalry. He should be raped by a unit of bear cavalry.But only if he doesn't check this blog.

I need to have Rachel come over to my house so I can have internet again, cause this is a bitch!

That's me. Annoyed at Herbert for not knowing what a bus is.