Funny Video Within 24 Hours

I made a funny video with a friend and it’s going to be uploaded within the next 24 hours. I’ll post again when that happens.


When I was thinking of a title for this post, I wondered if calling my video funny is arrogant. Funniness is subjective so I can’t really tell people what’s funny or not, can I? Yes I can. The video is objectively a “funny video”. It may not match your sense of humor and you might not laugh at it, but if you can’t recognize that it’s supposed to be a funny video, then there’s something wrong with you. I don’t know if this makes it sound worse because there exists videos that are really unfunny that are “supposed” to be funny.


I’ve been around long enough to know I’m pretty funny. I’m probably not hilarious, but I’m definitely at least funny. Sure I’ll tell bad jokes here and there but a good portion of what I intend to be funny, is funny to many people. It’s really uncomfortable to be around people who are truly unfunny but they think they’re funny. How can someone understand so little about humor? It’s so sad sometimes that it really bums me out. Maybe this will better illustrate what I’m trying to say: Most people aren’t so hilarious that I can’t resist laughing, but it’s polite to laugh and they’re funny enough that it’s easy to politely laugh. Some people are so unfunny that I feel uncomfortable laughing politely for them. It’s not that I’m judging their humor, but it’s so unfunny that I almost think they’re deliberately trying to be unfunny, in which case, laughing would not be the appropriate reaction for me to make. But then they proceed to smile, pause, and wait for a reaction as if they did say something funny.


Maybe that’s just me overthinking things. I know that when I’m drunk and not thinking and didn’t catch what the other person is saying but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t funny, I just laugh and I don’t feel uncomfortable about it at all.



I’ve been thinking about doing some stand up comedy again so I recently revisited my notes. I could probably write a blog entry on a lot of those. I should do that some time. I just wrote a chunk and I’ll wrap up this entry by pasting it here:


It’s impossible to not feel embarrassed when someone walks in on you while you’re wiping shit off your ass with pants around your ankles. Actually I can take away the wiping shit part. Having pants around your ankle is such an embarrassing state, for so many reasons. First off, your range of motion is inhibited and you’re forced to waddle if you try to walk. Then, your penis is showing. It doesn’t matter what state it’s in, it’s embarrassing. If it’s flaccid, then it’s tiny which is… such a sad sight to see. If it’s erect, then it brings up the question of why it’s erect. I guess it’s not as embarrassing for guys who have those large flaccid hanging dicks. Admittedly, I haven’t seen that many dicks in my life but I have yet to see a large flaccid hanging dick. Until I see one, I don’t actually know if they exist. They’re like mythical creatures to me at this point. For girls, it’s also embarrassing for their naked crotch to be seen. I’m not saying they shouldn’t be embarrassed, but shouldn’t it be less embarrassing because there’s literally nothing there? There’s pubic hair but why should that be more embarrassing than any other body hair? A penis is a weird thing sticking out but a girl’s crotch isn’t really revealing anything unless you look under her. Does it just sound like I don’t understand the human anatomy? I don’t need to see hanging dicks but if any girls want to enlighten me with what the female crotch looks like, I gladly welcome it.

Criminally Bad Sense Of Humor

We all know people who are not funny but they think they’re funny and they try to shove their “jokes and wit” down your throat. I exempt myself from that group because I don’t shove anything down anyone’s throats. I might write a lot of crap that you don’t find funny, but I’m not forcing you to read any of it. If you hate it, you’re shoving it down your own throat – not my fault.

I don’t know if there’s already a term for unfunny people who think they’re funny, but I will refer to them as humor criminals from this point forward. I’m not just being harsh here because I enjoy all kinds of humor: slapstick, dumb, childish, immature, smart, clever, puns, racist, offensive, absurd, everything. I usually don’t express my enjoyment in the form of laughter, but I still enjoy them. Almost everything can be funny. I’m all for exploring every topic, but it becomes criminal behavior when a person repeats something that’s not funny. A swing and a miss is perfectly fine, but don’t go continuing swinging and hit me in the head with it.

What’s funny and what’s not funny is very subjective. If you tell me a joke and I don’t like it, that’s fine, we don’t have to agree on everything. But once I tell you that it’s not funny to me, if you repeat the joke in front of me, that’s deliberately excluding me and that’s what offends me, not the unfunny joke itself.

…I thought I had more to say but then I lost interest in this topic. I “coined a term” for no reason because I never referred to it again. I don’t even know how to end this. I thought maybe I should end with a joke but it’s pretty hard to force a joke. Umm… given my history of thinking up blogs to write while I’m taking a shit, I went to take a shit to see if I can wrap this up. I couldn’t think of anything else to write and I ended up running out of toilet paper… in the whole house… so my day is pretty much ruined.

It’s Wrong To Find Humor In Misery… Or Is It?

I will start this off with a real life example. My uncle’s pretty much retarded now from being too drugged up and lacking physical and mental exercise for several months. He can’t walk on his own anymore and for the past 3 nights, he’s been getting up on his own and falling down. A couple hours ago, he had a particularly big fall. I rushed downstairs to help bring him back to bed. When I came downstairs, what I saw was an old man fell over with his pants fallen down to his knees, just enough to show his full ass. After I made sure he wasn’t seriously hurt, I started laughing in my head at the absurdity of someone’s pants falling down as they trip.

Is it okay to find that funny? Yes it is. I think most people would agree too. I wouldn’t laugh at my uncle in front of his face because he doesn’t need to feel any more embarrassed on top of turning retarded. Laughing at in the moment would be inappropriate, but after the fact, it’s pretty funny. The problem I have with this situation is that anyone can easily tell me it’s wrong to find it funny and they would feel so god damn smug about it.

People who would disapprove of me finding humor in these things are assholes. The only reason they can be so judgemental about it is because they live in a fairy land where good things always happen and all bad things should be frowned upon. They live a censored life where they don’t see any deaths even though there are people dying every minute from crime, disease, war, and famine. They don’t have any retards in their lives to ruin their day. If they do, they have the well-behaved retards, not the violent ones with crazy retard strength. It’s easy to patronize me for finding humor at the expense of others getting hurt but that’s not what’s happening. I’m not creating humor at anyone’s expense. The situation is undeniably sad but it happened and feeling sad about it isn’t going to make it not happen. Sad shit is constantly happening around me. Would it make some people happier if I just reacted appropriately sad all day? Well fuck them and their happiness in the ass. If I have to live through such a disproportionately unhappy life, they don’t have the right to take away any tiny moment of joy I can find.

8 Things I’ve Tried That Did NOT Make My Blog Popular

I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Actually, I know that I’m doing with it; I’m doing absolutely nothing with it and have no intentions of doing anything with it either. I don’t want to spiral into another depressing rant so I’ll just cut to the part where I find that I’ve got a keen sense of comedy and maybe I should try to do something with it. I figured I’ll start a blog to pour my comedy into and see if it gets me anywhere. 120 blog entries later, my blog is still hardly recognized. I have tried a number of things to get people to see it but they turned out to be exercises in futility. Here is a list of 8 of these things:

1. Create Lots of Quality Content

I’ve written freakin’ over 10 entries. They’re not all award winning masterpieces but a couple of them have literally won awards from wordpress (These aren’t esteemed awards or anything, but at least it shows that some people really liked them. Trust me, I honestly don’t think very highly of these.) The handful of people who see my work really love it but the problem is that not enough people gets to see it. There are simply too many bloggers out there and my blog falls instantly into obscurity the moment I publish it. Okay, so let me try to get more people to see it.

2. Adding Tags For Search Engine Optimization

I need to make it possible for people to find my blog so I add plenty of relevant tags. I have used 570 tags and the site keeps good track of how people enter the site so I know exactly how few people are able to find the site on their own. I even created a word cloud game with all these tags that I’ve used. I can also see the search engine terms and although they’re hilarious to look at, the person probably didn’t find what they were looking for in my blog. “girl shit diarrhea after”: I’ve written about girls and I’ve written about diarrhea, but not together. “photo penis gay masturbation erection”: I’ve written about each of those words individually but I’ve never written about gay masturbation and I surely don’t have any photos of that.

3. Following Other People’s Blogs

When you follow another person’s blog, wordpress sends them an email and tells them to check out my blog in return. I shamefully admit that I’ve gone around blindly following others without reading their blog in order to make my blog more visible. That is how I got a couple hundred followers but now I suspect that the majority of them didn’t actually read my blog either. I’ve gotten some of my biggest followers this way but this method is too slow to be practical. It’ll never lead to virality and would take years to reach any substantial number.

4. Using My Social Networks

The biggest flaw with this is that it requires me to have a social network to begin with, which I don’t. If I had one, it would solve a lot of my problems but how is a person supposed to get one to begin with? A social network is one of those things that some people just have and if you don’t have one, there’s not much you can do to get a good one. I have 0 followers on twitter because I don’t have an account and 99% of my facebook friends completely ignore me. I only have 90 facebook friends so mathematically, I’m saying that only 1 person responds to me and he doesn’t even respond every time. Reddit isn’t any help either if I can’t get a few friends to bump it up when I create the post.

5. Write Edgy or Controversial Content

I don’t have a lot of boundaries so a lot of the stuff I write is edgy to begin with. That didn’t seem to suffice so I wrote some controversial and provocative things. All that accomplished was offending one gay guy. I found an hugely popular article about a Pixar Theory which tries to explain how all the Pixar movies are all intertwined. I wrote a response entry that attacks it a little and linked it in the comment section to try to feed off some of those readers. I actually got a couple hundred views from this stunt but all it accomplished was get me 3 haters.

6. Write Clean Content

I’m capable of writing clean content so I decided to write a few clean ones just to see if more people would like that. I thought that I was still able to write some pretty funny clean jokes but my hardcore followers just told me I should go back to writing dirty shit jokes.

7. Add Pictures to Engage Readers

I’ve been adding images for my last 40 entries. It all started during one of my many shit stories that people seems to love reading about. One of the shit stories got a follower who was this sexy young girl and I suspected that she didn’t actually read it and I called her out on it. Turned out that I made an ass and a dick out of myself but it created this funny idea of putting pictures of pretty girls in my shit stories to create a bittersweet juxtaposition. I started adding funny caption, akin to cracked style, and I wound up adding pictures and captions for all my entries, not just the ones about shit. People love it but they were the same people who already love my blog. The pictures didn’t get me any new readers.

8. Write About Popular Things

Instead of just writing my shit stories, I’ve also tried writing about movies, video games, and tv shows that I like but it didn’t help make my blog more visible. Too many people already write about these things and at the end of the day, it’s just really hard to find new blogs when there are so many out there. Even if the blog has great original content, and I’m going to assume that I do, it’s still really hard to overcome the odds and succeed. I hope you’ve learned from my experience and know that trying these things alone is not enough to get a popular blog. You’ll need to do more than this or just do a better job at these than I did, for example, by having more friends than I do.

Loner vs. Loser

I am a true loner. On rare occasions, I get jealous of other people having fun with friends, or girlfriends, or boyfriends, or all of the above. But I don’t think I actually want to have some of my own. I think I’m just misinterpreting my hate for the noise they make. I simply hate seeing other people have fun, with or without me.

For the most part, I’m pretty content with being a loner. That’s different than a loser who’s alone. I have high standards for who I would befriend and since the standards are beyond what anyone’s capable of, I’m fine with not having anyone. A lonely loser has low standards and still fails to find people to meet them. He’ll cling to anyone or anything that shows them an inkling of kindness.

Being a loner and being a loser is not mutually inclusive. Above all else, I am a loner. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m not a loser. I kinda am. I’ve lost at life. I’m just saying that I’m not a loner because I’m a loser.

Political Responsibility is Not a Thing

The government is a big confusing mess that takes forever to make little changes and they screw up a lot of things. But they also get a lot of things right. There are people who preach that everyone has the responsibility to improve the system because it affects everyone. No. We don’t have that responsibility. Is it unfair that the lot of us just leave it to the few who are trying really hard to maintain and improve things? Not at all. They chose to do it. If they don’t do it, someone else will. When things get out of hand, more people will naturally join in. They don’t need to recruit unwilling participants.

There are people who spend a lot of time trying to figure out the system to improve it and if it’s so hard for them, that’s all the more reason for me not to get involved. I don’t need to know how everything works as long as I only get screwed to a tolerable degree. We all get screwed and a little screwing isn’t going to killing anyone. Everybody uses computers but 99% of the people have no idea how it works and even amongst people who have a fair idea of how it works, 98% of them have no idea how to fix things. The government is just like computers. Everyone interacts with it but they don’t need to know how it works. If it’s broken, someone else will fix it. Heck, most people don’t even know how their own bodies work. We don’t need to know how our assholes expand to excrete shit as long as we can get it to work. When it’s broken, the doctors will fix it. The government is just like our assholes.

Shit Stories Part XIV: My First Shit Story

This might be the last shit story I write and it’s going to be about the first shit story I’ve ever told. I was in university with a bunch of people who were kind of my friends. We were friendly with each other and hung out mostly out of convenience. They would invite me out and I tried my best to go out with them to enjoy their company, and it was okay, but it wasn’t enough for me to pursue the friendship. Evidently, I wasn’t a great additional to their group either since they eventually stopped asking me out. I don’t think it was because I scared them away with my shit story. If I did scare them away, it would be from trying to sell them sanitary napkins, including the guys. It was that phase of my life. I wasn’t being a pushy or anything though. People just got uncomfortable when certain words are brought up regardless of context.

The girls were as equally awkward as the guys when I talked about pads.

The girls were as equally awkward as the guys when I talked about pads.

I don’t remember why I was telling this shit story. Maybe it was because someone was complimenting my awesome huge pectoral muscles back then and instead of saying “thanks”, I reward them with a shit story. That’ll make a little more sense once you hear this shit story but it still doesn’t justify why I would talk about shit instead of saying “thanks”.



I started off by saying I wasn’t sure if this story was too personal (for them. It’s not personal at all for the blog.). In my bathroom, there’s a mirror right next to the toilet. Sometimes, when I plan to shower after taking a shit, I would take off all my clothes before taking the shit because I was going to take them off for the shower anyway. In the nude, I would look at the mirror and see some belly fat and I hated it. It was this constant reminder that helped motivate me to work hard at sculpting an awesomer body.

But my body could never get as good as that because I don't have boobs.

But my body could never get as good as that because I don’t have boobs.

I ended the story the same way I started, by saying I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or weird and this one guy was overreacting and said, “Yes. Of course that was too personal.” Even though I basically got negative feedback, I liked that I was able to hold people’s attention by talking about unconventional things and evoke emotion in them. That wasn’t the moment I realized I wanted to write a blog about shit stories or anything, but it was definitely a moment early on that showed me this is the path I will be taking. It reminds me a lot of this clip of Louis CK honoring George Carlin. The whole video is worth watching but I linked you straight to the part where Louis talks about a joke that got a wild negative-ish reaction from the crowd but he would rather have that than shitty laughs.

I would rather a girl look at me in disappointment, disgust, or confusion than to not have a girl look at me at all.

I would rather a girl look at me in disappointment, disgust, or confusion than to not have a girl look at me at all.

Sad, Funny, and Truthful Thoughts

Lately, I’ve been sadder and truer to myself but unfortunately not any funnier. I’m wrestling with depression and it’s pinning me down on my bed all day. I’ve been lacking a reason to do anything, lacking a reason to live, so I’ve just been pretty much waiting to die… at the age of 22. It’s going to be a long ass wait.

Girls never have to wait to die. Even if they just lie in bed and not go out, horny guys will find them somehow.

Girls never have to wait to die. Even if they just lie in bed and not go out, horny guys will find them somehow.

I tried to give myself reasons to live and do things. That’s just a nice way of saying I’ve been hitting on every girl who crosses my path on the internet. It’s sad how it actually surprised me that all I was able to accomplish was creep girls away. Even blogging is feeling more and more pointless to me. I really love it when people enjoy reading the things I write. When you guys leave a comment, it brightens me up for about 2 minutes and then I go back to feeling miserable for the remaining 23 hours and 58 minutes of the day. If I earn one new follower for each entry I write, I would need to write 720 entries and then continue writing everyday in order to feel alive. But sadly, I don’t even earn 1 new follower per entry so I would need to write more than that already retardedly high number. If blogging would get me anywhere, I would probably do it more but if I wanted to get anywhere with blogging, simply writing more isn’t the way to go. I would need to do annoying twitter, tumblr, reddit, diggs, diggit, or whatever there’s available out there. I’m the most un-tech savvy techy guy ever. It’d be great if someone would do all that for me.

Boy that's a lot of numbers. We'll research what it means by using my ass to point at things on the blackboard.

Boy that’s a lot of numbers. We’ll research what it means by using my ass to point at things on the blackboard.

A little while ago, someone asked me what I wanted to be in the future and I jokingly said that I wanted to be a parasite, living off other people. That was just a dumb joke. Then I thought about it for real and I think I want to be a stay at home dad. And then I realized that that was actually just a sugar coated parasite. This isn’t just some dumb joke. Well… it is, but it’s also true. I think about whether I want kids or not and I think I do, but I know I don’t want shitty kids. Because I’m kind of a shitty person, there’s a damn good chance my kids will turn out shitty. The best chance I have at nonshitty kids is if I can actually have the time and energy to parent the child to the best of my abilities. At that point, even if the kid is still shitty, at least it’s my little piece of shit. Most parents are all busy working and making money. They spend too much time away from the child and the times that they are home, they’re too tired to spend any quality time with the child.

If she was a mom, she'd be too busy posing in front mirrors to spend time with her child. She is blinded to her own poor parenting by that stupid hat.

If she was a mom, she’d be too busy posing in front mirrors to spend time with her child. She is blinded to her own poor parenting by that stupid hat.

When I watch Two and a Half Men, it’s sad that Alan Harper is actually the character I empathize with the most because I’m the most similar to him. Alan Harper is not a character that any respectable human being should identify with. What’s even sadder is that I’m a prettier version of Alan Harper but I get laid a lot less.


Alan Harper got to hit that.

Alan Harper got to hit that.

And that.

And that.

Discrimination: When is it Okay? Almost Always.

I’m not condoning hateful behavior because discrimination is a lot more than that. Most of the world is rather unintelligent and they discriminate improperly and that should not be done. But that doesn’t mean nobody should ever discriminate. At its very core, discrimination is simply differentiation. Everyone is different so they should be treated differently. They should be treated fairly, but not equally. It would be retarded to test a fish on its ability to climb a tree. Just like how it’s retarded to hire a fresh off the boat Chinese person who doesn’t speak English to be your customer service representative. The person is unfit for the job not because she’s Chinese, but because he doesn’t fuckin’ speak a lick of English.

She might not speak a lick of English but she's still a great model because models don't need to talk.

She might not speak a lick of English but she’s still a great model because models don’t need to talk.

I was listening to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast where he interviewed Jason Stuart, a gay comedian. Jason was bitching about how hard it was for him to get jobs because he’s gay and how he just lost a job because he’s gay. His bitchings got on my nerve. He wasn’t having a hard time because of his sexual preference; he was having a hard time because he was being a faggot. At one point Jason said, “Am I supposed to change who I am just because I’m on a job?” Yes, Jason, you should. It’s not so crazy to ask a person to change who they are. There are lots of rapists out there who’re doing a damn fine job holding in their urges and not raping everyone they see. Should they also just be who they are?

Just like how she would need to change if she wanted an English speaking office job. She would need to speak English and stop positioning herself for fecal excretion in public.

Just like how she would need to change if she wanted an English speaking office job. She would need to speak English and stop positioning herself for fecal excretion in public.

You don’t get hired to express your feelings. Go do that on your own time when you’re not getting paid. When you’re working, you should be a good worker and stfu unless you’re spoken to. If you can’t do that, you’re just not the kind of worker they’re looking for. It has absolutely nothing to do with what you do with your penis and asshole during your free time. You’re just a bad worker who also happens to be gay. Just like how athletes are hired because they’re good athletes and not because they’re black. They just usually happen to be black.

This girl, however, is here because I googled "pretty black girl" for a picture to put here.

This girl, however, is here because I googled “pretty black girl” for a picture to put here.

There’s a fine line between differentiation and hateful discrimination. Most people are just too stupid and associate all forms of differentiation as discrimination. Sometimes there are gray areas but sometimes it’s obviously unhateful. If you’re smart enough, you won’t need to resort to being offended as a default state. Here’s a progression of statements to demonstrate what I mean. “All women have breasts.” That is just plain fact and there’s nothing sexist about it. “All women have to dress accordingly depending on how they want their breasts to look in public.” That’s still perfectly factual with nothing sexist about it. Even if they don’t care about the way they dress, the way they end up dressing still affects the way their breasts look. “All women get a positive correlation of attention from men depending on the amount of boob they’re showing.” This is starting to hit some gray areas but it’s still mostly simply fact. If there’s any negative generalization, it’s not about women behavior at all; it’s about how men are dogs. But many people out there will gladly accuse me for making a negative accusation on women behavior. Well, I’m here to pre-emptively j’accuse you first.


J'accuse her for showing off her boobs on purpose.

J’accuse her for showing off her boobs on purpose.

The Heart Aches When It’s Frozen

There is no such thing as cold. What we call cold, is simply a lack of heat. I will expand on that later. Don’t worry, I’m not turning into an emotional-poet-wannabe. This is actually about something stupid that I do and my thoughts about it. This is about physical heart pains I experience when I put ice near my chest.

Be prepared to read for a while.

Be prepared to read for a while.

Okay, why the heck is Ted putting ice near his chest? This will take a number of sentences to explain. I bought a beast of a computer recently and placed it in my room, which is pretty small. Being the beast that it is, the computer is huge and generates a lot of heat. But this computer is no dumb beast. It’s a well-built beast so it has tons of fans to keep it cool. As a result, my beastly computer pushes all the hot air into my tiny room.

If Ted says "beast" one more time, I'll kill him.

If Ted says “beast” one more time, I’ll kill him.

My computer’s a beast so there’s not much I can do about it. My room isn’t that small and I’m not complaining about its size. It’s just not very well ventilated. Why is it not ventilated? Because the door is closed most of the time. Why is the door closed most of the time? To keep noise from coming in or going out. When my family’s around, they’re loud and I hate them so I would rather not hear them. At night, I try not to make too much noise because I’m a considerate person and I don’t want to disturb them when they’re trying to sleep. There are also handfuls of other reasons why I would want to close the door.

Pun intended. Teehee.

Occasionally, I bring ice packs into the room to cool it down a bit. I used to put the ice packs right next to the beast but then there are lots of pools of condensation water and I don’t want to get it wet. So now, I just put the ice packs on the desk, in front of the keyboard, so that the part of the room near the computer will still be somewhat cooler. That is why I have ice near my chest.

Long ass background story.

Long ass background story.

The ice isn’t actually touching my body so it’s not a frost-bitey kind of pain. For some reason, my heart is the thing that’s in pain. As far as I know, I don’t have any heart problems. In fact, I used to be pretty fit. A few years ago, I was running 10km everyday, as a means of transportation. I was a beast. In fact, I feel the heart pain right now. It’s an odd kind of pain. I don’t know what a heart attack feels like, but this feels like the prologue. I guess it feels like I’m dying? I still have the ice packs in front of me so I’m pretty sure that’s the reason I feel the pain, not because the girl from the picture is killing me for continuing to say “beast”.

Looks like I'll have to kill Ted the old fashioned way.

Looks like I’ll have to kill Ted the old fashioned way.

You know when you do hardcore cardiovascular exercises and your heart hurts because it’s working so hard? It feels a little bit like that but my heart isn’t beating any faster and I’m not breathing any differently. I don’t think it’s beating slower either. Remember the first lines of this entry? Back in high school, a smart girl named Emma sat near me in science class and I overheard her thinking that out loud. Heat is a type of energy and cold is just the lack of that energy. If I try to visualize how the ice packs affect the temperature in the room, I see cold air emanating from it. But cold isn’t a thing, heat is. So the ice packs are actually absorbing the surrounding heat. Energy is flowing towards it, not away from it. With the ice near my chest, it’s literally sucking (heat) energy from my heart.

Kind of like staring at her chest drains all my energy to do anything else...

Kind of like staring at her chest drains all my energy to do anything else…

Maybe the ice packs are causing condensation to happen within my body (maybe in my lungs?). And maybe condensation hurts. Maybe. Or maybe not. I don’t really care. If I cared, I would start by moving the ice packs further away instead of stupidly feeling discomfort. Before I end this entry, I want to warn any new readers I may have. My last couple posts have been more thoughtful and significantly less profane than what I usually write. The next entry is going to be back to being crude. The title will be a dead giveaway so don’t read it if you can’t handle it. If you do decide to read and you find something offensive, stop reading immediately because it’s not going to get any less offensive. People who love my sense of humor is going to love it. I won’t taint this entry with the title, but let’s just say it’s going to be about a handful of things. I have a lot of material which will take several hours to write. I’m deciding whether I should release it in parts or just release one really long entry. If I release in parts, it’ll just mean that you can read it sooner and I’ll still be releasing the full version when it’s done. Basically, if you just read this as my latest blog entry and you want to read more of my awesomeness right NOW, let me know and I will start releasing it in chunks.

I eagerly look forward to it since he's hyping it up so much.

I eagerly look forward to it since he’s hyping it up so much.