|No subject line is good enough for me.
||[Feb. 17th, 2005|03:42 pm]
|||||My own music; I'm too cool for anything else.||]|
Someone called to my house today, telling me how great I was, how nobody is better than me and that there never will be anyone who is. I kicked him out on his stupid ass, because telling me things I already know is grounds for me to kill you and your family, maybe even your relations, depending on how far your head is stuck up your own ass.
Someone said I had no balls today as well, little realising that my balls are the most powerful of their kind in the universe. He just didn't know what he was talking about, the idiotic asshole. I was going to show him, but the sheer sight of my manly goods would have overwhelmed him and put him into a coma; then I'd have to deal with a load of hospital forms and bullshit, and I'm way too awesome for boring rubbish like that.
I played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas this morning, and it was terrible. I had a feeling I was too good for it before I was asked to play it, but out of pity for the person who asked me to (he was in a wheelchair), I decided to do so anyway. The game beat itself just because I was holding the controller, no doubt due to how great I am. Where's the fun in that?
Oh, and the console exploded after I left the room. That had nothing to do with me being so utterly great, but rather that I kicked the piece of shit console to pieces and wired the power switch up to dynamite, so as to get revenge against the pitiful retard who asked me to play it. What a jerk. I'm glad he was in a wheelchair beforehand.