*walks in, looking confused* Something about this place seems so familier, like I've been here before...long long ago. Maybe in another life...or at least a different month.

Ok, I'm back! For how long I don't know, but I am.

I'm keeping busy with school work, tax stuff (it's driving me nuts) and looking for a job. I'm really hoping to get in at centralift (bakerhughes.com) or QuikTrip (quiktrip.com). I've talked to people at both: Centralift told me I had to graduate first, QuikTrip said they'd call the district hiring manager. I'm hoping something happens there.

May 1st is the ABKA tournament. I can't beleive it's going to be so soon. I'll be doing Wansi-Sho for the kata compitition and will be doing Wansi-hope-to-live-through-it for the fighting. Sure, it would be nice to win a fight or two: hey, it would be nice to win first place! But I doubt that will happen. So I'm spending a lot of time working on the kata, because I would really, REALLY like to win in kata.

Sunday I was feeling like writing something which would have no real value to the world, and so I came up with this. Please forgive the spelling.
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One doesn't like to wake up in the morning only to find a dead body has come into your home, made a pot of coffee, poured himself a cup (and made use of your best creamer) and is happily awaiting your waking so he may eat you for breakfast.
Fortunately for me, on the morning in question, such a thing had not occured. In fact, to my limited knowledge, something of that sort has never occured, but you must admit that it sure did a lot to grab your attention right at the start.
However, on the morning in question, there was somebody waiting for me, and indeed someone almost as bad as the aformentioned zombie. It was my cousin Fredrickk, who had several annoying habits (not least of which was insisting on placing two k's at the end of his name), and probably the most annoying of these was his amazing ability to totally ruin your breakfast. He did this through a combination of snide remarks about the cooking, loud chewing noises, and his own unique hair style. But the worst of it was that you knew there would be no getting rid of him until you had given ("loaned" was the word he liked) him the amount he was asking you for every three and a half minutes.
In fact, when I had first made my fortune in the commimorative rubber band industry, I had taken several steps to see to it that he would never be able to find me. First I had changed my legal name and then hired a local gang to burn the building holding the records of the change. Moving to the most obscure part of the nation I could find, I settled in a small town in eastern Washington. I then had all the citizens placed under hypmotizim so that none of them knew I lived there. Plastic sergery gave me another face, I had my finger prints altered, my voice box changed and my iris pattern redone. Next I placed a moat around my house, a thorny hedge, a poison ivy hedge, machine gun bobby traps and razor wire. I released large dogs, bulls and poisonis snakes onto the property, and then placed thirty-two seperate kinds of locks on every door.
Apparently however, my efforts had not been enough, for when I came down to breakfast on that morning, Fredrickk was already sitting at the table, louding eating my toast. His hair style (too horrindous to describe) was even more annoying than usual.
"Why dear old Thomas!" he cried around the food in his mouth, "This food is absolutly horrible! Do you want to join me for breakfast?"
"YOU are inviting ME to breakfast at MY HOUSE?" I thundered.
"Yes I am!" he replied, helping himself to my eggs, "Downright generous of me, isn't it? By the way, can you loan me a million dollars?"
"Why should I do that?"
"Because if you don't, then I'll stay here and eat a lot more than a million dollars worth of this awful food. I can take a cheque if you don't have cash on hand."
"Never!" I cried, determined that this time he wouldn't get a red cent out of me.
He looked hurt. "Hey, now that's really mean of you. You know most guys would demand cash, but here I am, willing to put myself through all sorts of trouble for you and all you do is yell at me. It's things like this that wound a man for life, you know."
"Well, maybe it will wound you to death!" I ranted.
"Oh, no fear of that! I'll just keep eating this deplorible food until you see reason."

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Crazy, no?

Last week I did a round-off, backhandsrping, back tuck all by myself! It was really cool. Last night I did it several times, although I messed up a lot (actually, I messed back a lot: if I had gone up there wouldn't have been a problem!)

I need to get off now. God bless, talk to y'all later!

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