F'n Chuck Norris

I really wanted to use the actual quote, but I think dropping the F-bomb in a post title is just a bit extreme. Now if I were talking to whoever is currently reading this, I most likely would have said it. But that's an entirely different thing. I find I can get away with saying a lot more than I can in writing. At least when I say something it's not as easy to refrence. Besides, I can say it in a way that doesn't rely on the the curse word to get a laugh. Anyway, that concludes the paragraph explaining why I didn't just write fuck. Now on to the reason for the quote.

I stopped off at my local Globo Gym to make sure everything was still on for my dodgeball leagues (Gold's Gym actually, but probably the inspiration for Globo Gym). And guess what? Those snotty, image peddling bastards dropped all the individuals that signed up. So now if I want to beat the life out of ponchy middle aged men enjoying a mid-life crisis I have to round up a collective of 12 guys (girls are welcome too... if the guys on the team are OK with not winning I'm down with that too). Not only that, but instead of just paying the individual cost of 70 bucks to join I have to raise $400.00 to play. I might con my school into paying for all of this somehow, but in the meanwhile if there's any able-bodied people out there in the Springfield-ish area who want to play dodgeball, drop me a comment.

In an unrelated but equally annoying story, my apartment complex now acts as my mother. Well, not my mother, but some kind of room-invading, facist, evil parent. Pretty much like Mussolini the step-dad. They left me the notice that they would be entering my apartment to change a filter and check for bugs like usual. It's a little invasive and happens every three months or so, but I never really cared much about it. "Let them enjoy looking at my awesome stuff, only to remember that they aren't cool enough to own it" I thought. Only this time I got a 'report card' after they left. Apparently they went through everything in my place and rated it. Everything from the front door to the bedrooms to the bathroom, living room and kitchen. I got "OK" in every category. And if I hadn't? I'd make sure to voice my apathy in a way that was constructive. Possibly by egging their office.

But what I'm going to do for sure is rig up some kind of surprise for the next time they come here. I was thinking something along the lines of hiding when they come in and jumping out of a random place screaming about the voices. Or maybe when they test my smoke detector it electrocutes them. Or some other, as yet, unthought of action. Because really, you come in my underground lair, you takes your chances.

That's all for today kids, tune in next time for Scotty Quest and Mr. Barry's Mass Transit Adventure.

- Scott

P.S. Embarrassing thing I've been meaning to clear up. When I called Amy a 'Grade A' woman, I was under the impression that I was talking to my friend Amy from Georgia who also reads my blog. Then when I was checking for something else I said in a comment I noticed that you said you were a 'Tim fan at heart', at which point I also noticed myself saying "shit." So to Tim-Amy, my bad. Any and all sexual harassment was made under the assumption that you were a different girl. Don't worry though, I'll still give you the benefit of the doubt that you are a 'grade A' woman.