The motherfuckers. Someone, broke in to my computer and decided to delete all of my favorites from Internet Explorer. Actually, I may have done it accidentally or something I�m not sure. If that is the case, I will punch myself in the leg for being so stupid and mindless.

So when I went to the MMW gig in Portland, ME last weekend I was waiting outside for my friend to come out when some guy walked up with two dogs. Two pit bulls. I hate those fucking dogs. I don�t know why people take them out in public. One of them lunged at snapped at a girl that tried to pet it while the guy was standing there. If I were to ever support the eating of pets, I think these dogs would be the first on my list, followed by ferrets. I imagine a ferret is delicious. Right. So I took a few steps back, and looked in some store fronts to get away from the dogs, and to wait for my friend to come out. Across the street, I notice a store front is lit up, inside, there are about a dozen people ballroom dancing. It�s like midnight, and these motherfuckers are still ballroom dancing. Are they hopped up on coke? Or are they so fucking into ballroom dancing that they are going to go at it all night. Are they on ecstasy? I wonder what the equivalent of ecstasy in the ballroom dancing scene is. Dr. Pepper and 5 Advils or something. So, I�m trying to hide from this impending mauling I could fall to, watching these ballroom dancing folks, when all of a sudden this man with tight curly hair pulled back in a pony tail emerges from the gig. He is wearing one of those two-toned denim jackets. The sleeves were a little lighter than the vest part. So I�m thinking to myself, �what a fucking jerk-off this guy is�. There is a small patch of sorts on the breast of it. Upon closer examination, it�s Winnie the Pooh. Fuck! He turns around, and on the back of it is a big fucking Winnie the Pooh thing happening! This isn�t the same jacket, but you can see the lameness of this jacket:

So I�m looking at this asshole with the Winnie the Pooh jacket, when all of a sudden I realize, or think anyway �I know this fucking guy, I know someone, or rather knew, someone with a Winnie the Pooh two-toned denim jacket on� I used to buy pot off of this guy in high school briefly!

Now he�s sporting a fucking two-toned denim Winnie the Pooh jacket. I came up with a couple of different scenarios: Maybe he�s still dealing, and this is to throw the cops off. Maybe his girlfriend is inside, and he�s waiting for her, he took her jacket with him. Maybe he works for Disney. Maybe he is gay. Maybe I should direct him over to the ballroom dancers on Dr. Pepper and Advil across the way, or maybe I should walk by him and bump him into the rabid pitbulls that are waiting to bite someone in the face at any minute. I bet if Pit Bulls knew anything about fashion, or fuck it, this isn�t even about fashion, it�s about general�.knowledge of anything, if Pit Bulls knew how to talk, and could comprehend shit like humans, they would have attacked this guy immediately.

Wouldn�t you, mister evil face biting pit bull?

My friend finally comes out, and I am too upset to even tell him of the shit that just went down outside in the ten minutes I was waiting for him.

Fast forward to today. So I barely left the house all weekend again. I left twice on Saturday, both times, returning with a different DVD from Blockbuster of the Sopranos 3rd season. I watched the whole 3rd season this weekend. Yeah. So today I decided to go down to the coffee shop and do some reading as I like to do on Sundays again. I used to do this ever Sunday, and it kind of stopped, so I�m trying to get back into it now. The coffee shop I am going to is in Salem, 94 miles or so from Portland, Maine. I pull in and realize I�ve parked awfully close to this white Volvo, so close that they will have to be a super model, or from Hazard County to get in the car:

I then realize it�s a White Fucking Volvo, and leave it. I go into the place, as soon as I open the door, who the fucking hell Christ do I see standing there but Mr. two-toned denim Winnie the Pooh jacket guy! So it was him, he�s in my hometown, and he�s hitting on the girl working there who looks like a scraggly version of Christina Aguilera. It then turns out, he is sitting with two women in there. I don�t notice one of them until they leave. They are talking about something vague at one point he says �I can go home and get it if you want to show you it�. This is all I really got out of it. The women got up, and they started walking out, it was that girl from high school. I was friends with her brother, and then at one point we weren�t friends anymore, and he literally wrote on the wall of a school. �Chris Campagna sucks his divorced fathers cock� . I ignored it, as I usually do with that kind of thing, and karma eventually fell his father to cancer a year later anyway. No, that didn�t amuse me though. I felt shitty at the time, as I remember his dad was cooler than he was. Anyway, he had this sister who I thought was hot. She was this heavy metal looking girl with big hair, really fucking big hair. I vaguely started remembering something about this guy and this girl and pornography. That�s all I can remember three things, him, her, pornography. I can�t remember if they were in one, if they made one, if they watched them, nothing. I need to get to the bottom of this guy though. I need to find out why he needs this jacket, and what he was doing in Maine at that concert, and if he�s making porns with the sister of that kid that told people what I did on the wall behind the school that time. I remember his name and everything, so I may do some spying, and see if I can figure some shit out. If anything, I could go on an adventure this winter and play detective.

yo it�s fall time in New England, hell yeah!

before & after