A Molson event NOT featuring Sloan....

I left a sizable gap between my last post and this one on purpose. It seemed nothing in my life was worth writing about. I'm old now. Not as old as my brother in law though. He turned 30 on the 16th. He got a PS3 for his birthday. My sister (his wife) calls it the PS3-0. She is witty. Playing video games at 30 is nothing though. My best friend's father is in his 60s and plays playstation just as much as I do, which is a ridiculous amount. He even went out and bought a PSP so he could play games in his office at work. This guy is still a kid at heart and I consider him a friend more than my buddy's dad or my family doctor. (he actually IS my family doctor, the few of you that actually read my blog already know that though)
My last post spoke about the upcoming Queens of the Stone Age concert. I decided to become an alcoholic so that I could attend the show. I won on the first box of beer I bought. I couldn't believe it. Andrea didn't. She told me to "fuck off" a few times and then proceeded the inspect the ticket as if she was a baseball card collector. She doesn't take me seriously that often. I don't blame her either. I have since bought 3 or 4 more boxes of beer with the hopes of landing passes for my friends. I appreciate my friends more than I do my own liver. That's fuckin' commitment.
Many of you have seen this clip. It's pretty funny. Watch it. When you finish watching that one, watch this one. I think I pee'd a little bit when I did.

No one knows...

I have been driving back and forth from St. John's to C.B.N. everyday all week. I don't mind it as much as I thought I would. It's really kicking the shit out of my car though. My car is black. Salt is white. My car looks like a zebra. Then a crack developed in the windshield. My car looks a lot older than it's 16 months. It's starting to look like a car that someone who has dealings with drugs would drive around in. Winter needs to fuck off now....
On one my trips in over the highway, I hear on the radio that Queens of the Stone Age is playing in St. John's. I immediately call Warford, which is illegal. It's not illegal to call warford, just when I am driving the car. You all know that. Anyways, I realize that calling Warford at 7:45 in the morning is just as useful as shitting in my own hand. He either went to bed 2 hours ago or still hasn't gone to bed yet because he is immersed in some video game that I don't like and can't become unglued to answer the phone.
I don't why I shit on you so much Warford. You are one of my bestest friends and it's so easy.....