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Or you and me could be a secret couple by night. I like that option better. Nobody would know...

You could be a porn star by night, you know.

feel... alive...

Why wouldn't you be the perfect girl next door? You're sweet and charming but have a nice element of mystery about you. That's a perfect girl-next-door if I ever did see one. Which, by the way, I haven't. The only other kids on this street are guys. Most of whom are a few years younger than me, and are absolute morons. I used to play street hockey with them.

Neither did I. I had a few slices of bread. And a Five Alive.

You wouldn't have a chair to sit on, though. You'd have to sit on my lap.

On May 15, the world is ending. Duh.

Meg would be the perfect girl-next-door... if only she didn't live several hours away.

I still sleep with all my blankets. It's a security thing. I need the weight on me. I am physically unable to sleep without a significant amount of weight on me.

Eh, shutupayouface. You overpaid for that plate. Come 'round these parts at Easter, and I'll show you how lamb is supposed to taste.

Glad I can encourage more people into the field pushing drugs! We can totally get e-married if you want. P.S.-if you have any more pharmacy questions, I can help out. 4th year clinical rotations are killing me right now but I'm sure I can find some time to answers some questions. Nah, I'm good. The UBC website had a great FAQ about pharmacy stuff, and once I realized that pharmacy is a second entrance program after one year of undergrad, everything cleared up nicely. The biggest thing I have to worry about now is just pulling off the marks to get accepted somewhere. Oh, and figuring out where I might go, other than U of T. P.S. Your PC or mine?

What would happen if you got drunk? You would probably get out of control and tell all your deepest secrets like how you're so ashamed that your creepy uncle touched your privates when you were 5 and told you not to tell. That was wrong, wasn't it? On many levels, yes. It wasn't my uncle.

And you missed out on the fun that is taking a beatiful combination of Codeine and Acetominophen every 2 hours for 5 days.

I got my wisdom teeth out and four other teeth for braces. Dumbass.

I am, apparently, going to prom, on the benevolence of another guy at my table being unable to get a date. After I already turned down a girl who asked me to prom, who will be sitting at that table. It's funny because nobody else has a fucking clue what happened. I'm really split. I fucking hate dance music and associated activities. The last time I went to a similar event (a few weeks ago), the night was a brilliant catastrophe on every possible level. I'm a very paranoid and anxious guy. I spent the entire night sitting at my table, clutching a glass of water, while everyone else had fun. I sat around until I decided that going home wasn't worse than sitting around. Everyone keeps telling me that the after-parties are where it's at, what with the getting drunk and all. The problem is that not only am I paranoid and afraid to have my parents see me hungover the next day, I'm also a control freak. I have no clue what would happen if I got drunk. That scares me. So basically, I'm going because I bought my ticket. I figure I'll duck out after dinner and go to a bar or something, and take in some good music. Or at least do something mildly original. I guess. Take advantage of the fact I'll be wearing a suit. On a side note, I can't fucking stand these 16 year old girls running around who have their proms planned down to a T. Those people need better things to think about. I also hate them because they think "It's prom!" and "Because!" are good enough reasons to engage in the giant clusterfuck of pointless consumption and stupidity that prom is.

I want to wear the following to my high school graduation: It will put people in their place.

When I was a kid, I thought it was funny to threaten to strangle people.

Fuck, if there's Tylenol 3 involved, I'd fucking pay you to get in on the festivities. I nearly got hooked on those things after getting 8 teeth taken out last December.

When I was a kid, I thought "past-time" was spelled "passtime".

Who said a robot riding a bicycle would be faster? A bike's tires would shred before it reached the top speed of a Smart car.

This sets a bad precedent. Adam has been in line to be OTP's protege for some time, and now that someone with boobs has jumped into the line ahead of me?

I could have sworn I just made an antagonistic post in here telling heyrabbit that his logic was flawed...

Beth, I love you because you inspired me to want to go into pharmacy. P.S. Marry me?

It is Italian-Canadian speak for someone who is extremely white. Or simply not Italian. The original term is "mangiacake", because caker bread is so light and fluffy it is like cake.

If Meg has flown anywhere, it's to my <3, not to Victoria.