There's nothing that a few hundred rounds through the barrel of a fully automatic rifle can't cure. Shooting the fuck out of a target with no regrets is a helluva a stress reliever.

Yes, I'm home.

Yes, I'm sort of blah.

Yes, I'm fucked in the head, but guess what? None of you did it. I've been this way for years and years.

Yes, I'm alone and hate it.

No, this is not uplifting. Its life.

And by the way, if you don't really come here to see how I am and comment and talk and the like, you're coming off the friends list. I've been cut by several people of late and I don't know why. And only one person has ponied up as to why. He/she is forgiven. Serioulsy. The rest? Well, if I'm a 'notch' on your friends belt, then fuck you I don't need it.

Sorry for the attitude, but its here to stay for awhile.

Oh, and by the way. I watched the Green bay game where Favre threw his record breaking touchdown. Great emotion. But what the fuck was with all the reporters? "Brett. Do you wish your father could have been here to see this?" No assholes, I wish his dead ass was turning a blind eye from all of this. OF COURSE HE WISHES HIS FUCKING FATHER WAS THERE TO SEE IT! HE WISHES HIS FATHER WAS THERE THE OTHER NIGHT WHEN HE JUST FELT LIKE TALKING! hE WISHED HIS FATHER WAS THERE WHEN HIS DAUGHTER DID SOMETHING FUNNY AND HE WANTED TO SHARE IT! HE WANTED HIS FATHER THERE WHEN HE NEEDED A FRIEND AND SOME ADVICE!

Fucking reporters...

fucking people and their stupid shit...