Wednesday, August 26, 2009


One thing that I noticed about myself this week:

Whenever I go to any European country, my English takes on a distinctly British flavor. My fake accent is weak sauce. I know its bad, but it just happens. Further d-baggifying myself, I say things like "Cheers", "Bullocks", "Brilliant", "Tosser", and other proper British colloquialisms as if they are as common to me as my typical US slang (IE: Dude, Balls, Lame, or Ass).

Is it so bad that I want to upgrade my euphemistic vulgarities? No. But is it necessary? Also no.

Today, the greatest moment of my life was the realization that whether it be balls, or whether it be bullocks, nothing matters if you live as without the sack to carry them.

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