So there I was at the nearest Ministop, sporting my fat hobo look with red barbecue sauce all over my shirt. I picked up some chips, a bottle of root beer and a few packs of instant pancit canton, then I headed over to the counter to pay for them. I cut the line, drawing spiteful looks from the family behind me. I couldn’t care less. I upset them more when I told the counter girl to hold off on my receipt because I just saw something that brought my world to a complete stop. On the rack a few feet from the counter are brand new issues of FHM. It’s their 100 Sexiest Women in the World issue and on the cover? Sam frickin’ Pinto.

I acted like a total dick when I got this and I should be ashamed, but fuck you, it’s Sam Pinto.

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I don’t know what I’m doing here. I just got up from a 2-hour sleep and went “It’s frickin’ hot. Fuck this shit, I’m going to McDonald’s in Emerald.” So maybe I do know why I’m here. I can’t sleep. Because it’s frickin’ hot at the apartment. Also, I blame a girl. It’s always about a girl, isn’t it?

At this hour, with little sleep, only random things can be blogged by my random brain. What does that even mean, “random brain”? Tss.

They’re playing Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus songs here. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I want a new name. Here’s a list of the names I’m considering:

Dr. Bloodfang McKickface
Laserwolf Deathplosion
Thunderfire Venomclaw
Bomber Satanblood
Hurricane Sharkpunch
Babyface Killswitch
Hellskull Gravetalon
Rocky St. Bazooka
Electroslash Supernova
Stabhammer Devilbone

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