Don't Trust Little Black Boxes Called Jetpack

They don't work at all.

That's the main reason I haven't blogged in a while, my dear readers.

Verizon sold us this little miracle box called the MiFi Jetpack. It likes to download random things when no one is home. Then it likes to make my mother yell at me, even though I have only been home three times that week to shower and pee.

I graduated recently. And turned 18. It's all not as fabulous as it's made out to believe. Getting a job is impossible and it really takes a crap on your priorities.

So I'm sitting here in the Hebron library, typing on a keyboard so outdated that a WWII vet probably used it to bash a Nazi's teeth in. It's greasy too. Blech. Remember to wash your hands, Sawyer.

What do I have to talk about now? Well I'm not particularly sure. I do know that typing like a maniac is fun as hell in here. Most Kentuckians are impressed that you can spell your own name. Hell, half my graduating class would probably spell Conner Cougars like Conner Kroger, simply because there's one across the street. Close enough, I suppose.

There are no pictures so far in this post. This is mostly to do with the fact that this is not my computer, but also because I am on Internet Explorer, which is the bane of anyone who would like to do anything on the internet. They are making a new Internet Explorer, version 9. Now you can download Google Chrome 200 times faster.

I woke up this morning to find I had indeed missed orientation for Louisville, and this severely pissed me off. The blame here rests mostly on me (there you go mom, rejoice) and our retarded Internet. Also, UofL website makes about as much sense as a penguin pissing in a volcano. I recorded every password and username they gave me, plugged them all in, and couldn't log into a damned thing. Hm.

Anyway, money has been in my pocket lately, and is rapidly flying out. If you ask me then I'll tell you that someone has to help the economy. But really, I just find pleasure in stupid things. It has it's advantages. Then you get all depressed when you don't have two nickels to rub together. YOLO? (Never say that around me.)

I applied for Toy R Us, and despite it being a cool place in my youth, the floors are as yellow-stained as Ghandi's teeth and the isles reek of depression. Fair enough I suppose.

I have so much to do in so little time it seems. I have a fair amount of art projects I wanna finish at home. I have to get a job, preferably before I spend all this cash. I have to reschedule orientation. I have to set up a graduation party. I have to get a laptop. I have to fix my junker. I have to laugh at feminists more often. That's a big list for an apathetic guy, you know.

Moving on, I have recently started hanging out with THE GUYS as I will refer to them here, and I figure I can do a short psychological analysis on each of them here, mostly for my amusement, as none of them will read this.

Blondie: You know him. Book-reader, good natured and possessor of quick wit. Always dependable and fun, cautious (to a fault almost) and loving of his girlfriend Rachael, who may be one of the most badass girlfriends ever. Philosophical

Brian: Sex addict, likes get on /b/ for all the wrong reasons. He will make you laugh your pants off though, and his beard is a breeding ground for jokes. Good natured deep down.

Wooz: Whipped at the moment. However, I've known him to be one of the most relaxed yet intelligent men I've met. Hilarious and benevolent more often than not.

Ghandi (Not the real one or the one reffered to above): The more serious of the group, with an odd penchant for farts. Most reluctant to try something new, but also the most fun to watch do so. Clever and shrewd.

Oh, and we're all nerds.

I'm starting D&D. I have much more to talk about next time, but the library decided that a normal human needs only 50 of time on the computer. *sigh*

Till next time,