Penis Monologues

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I will give a quick shout out to the person I think would most appreciate Penis Monologues, Aussie Mike. Who if he is bored is probably reading this from a LAN down under [LAN=Local Area Network].

Q: What is the speed limit of sex?
A: 68; at 69 you have to turn around.

Penis monologues were the greatest escape into fun. A spoof off the famed Vagina Monologues, this piece of theater is played once a year at PSU to my personal critical acclaim. Shame on anybody who goes through undergrad and never see it. You missed a great time. Located within walking distance is the Forum (nix the jokes about the funny thing that happened on the way...) after nine parking is free so we drove. When we arrived, we went the wrong way in the circular forum. Instead of waiting in a line that extended outside, we ended up being among the first ten to go in. SCORE!

Now the cost was as free as a flasher's wang. We got great seats in the middle and were even able to save seats for MattyMat and Alice in the packed standing-room only classroom. I got an awesome picture of Alice with a penis in the background shown above but not many other pics. Classic, right? In retrospect, both Nicole and I hookup and now MattyMat and Alice do, so somewhere it must have been a rather romantic occasion.

Memories of "No Refund Theater" came to mind but Penis Monologues were funnier on average; although, it was not quiet as funny as SAS (Short Attention Span Theater) and their skit productions or doing abridged Hamlet quicker, and quicker, in slow motion, and then backwards. In general, I like all theater, especially theatre that stimulates the man's hypothalamus. (The hypothalamus is one of the most important parts of the brain, involved in controls the "Four F's": 1. fighting; 2. fleeing; 3.feeding; and 4. mating.) Live theater better than reality TV I probably would have seen otherwise, because you can hear your friends in the soundtrack to this.

Penis monologues proved a few things. Nicole did not think she would like it but laughed her arse off. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. This proves that I was right and she should learn to obey. Penis monologues also proved that male strip teases are more funny than sexy; luckily, it did not result in any male nudity. I think if it did James or Zach would have auditioned. There were more girls than guys in the audience. More proof of Penis Envy--haha. Finally, I learned that chastity is curable, if detected early.

Mostly though it was not about learning, but short stories and skits that were all about laughing about sexuality. I especially liked when the only girl in the cast walks by half way though and said, "I like oral sex." Audience reaction was quintessential to the fun. This one skit centered on how hard it was to urinate after sex. This caused the actor to tell a tale where he accidentally peed on the girl he lost his virginity to when she came into the bathroom. When he said he was trying to stop, the guy behind us groaned, "No, don't stop, that shit hurts." My other favorite audience moment happened when another person's skit caused him to say "Size doesn't matter." Instantly, the girl behind me said, "It matters to me."

Finally, that same only girl in the cast walks by three fourths of the way though and said, "I REALLY like oral sex." Then she proceeded to put a phone number on the chalkboard. With that deja-vous feeling, MattyMat examined his cell phone and realized that the oral sex girl's phone number is real and in his contact list. Way to big pimp MattyMat.

Keying off Vagina Monologues, the men lined up and started naming their penises, or is it peni? My favorite was "Peter-peter, pussy-pleaser". When Vagina Monologues ended, RuchaCat and crew felt like it would be fun to name their vaginas and bring it up in conversation months later. Luckily, over the years none of the guys I know felt the same need because I don't think they could pull it off. …If I was forced to play though I would say I'll call mine the bishop, it works both in the religious catholic schoolgirl way and the cunning intellectual chessboard way. Okay I had lied; I want to be peter-peter too…

This blog was dedicated to all you virgins, thanks for nothing.

Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
http://psubabbler.esmartguy.com
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Jimmy Vs Sprinkles - Julia N Nicole Bday

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I do not know what was going on in May that would stir the birds and the bees. Maybe, that is where the word "may bee" came from. Ludicrous, I know but something happened so that nine months later my friends came popping out of their mommies. Maybe there was a condom shortage in 82' that would explain it. Or may bee there is something about kids born on that day that draws them to me. It was 4 years 4 months and 4 days before I was born that Nicole was born. I guess there are forces beyond my rational. Behold the power of four. No matter the case, there are many birthdays this month and thus crazy gift purchases or dinner obligations. Luckily, my friends rock so it is so much fun.

The two big birthdays this week were Julia's on Valentines and Nicole's two days later. On Valentines, I left Nicole's gifts on the counter so she would stumble on them on as a spicy surprise. We are not big on gifts and standard holidays but suave me still got her various little trinkets that I thought linked together. A black shirt with red lips on it led to a tin of cute lip-gloss that sat on a green frog that made a kissing song when squeezed. The amorous green frog led to a green scented candle, which obviously let to a stick of beef jerky. (What girl does not like meat? See Celery for proof [she gave up being a vegetarian then got her first boy toy.])

In general, in life, all I want is a warm bed and a kind word... and unlimited power. For Valentines, the only think I asked of Nicole was a sentimental handmade balloon animal. Being the pious Pchewy that I am, I even left a how-to book and balloons lying around the room. Nicole has an irrational fear that will not let her blow up a balloon though. I am not sure if she thinks it will explode and pieces will suffocate her or poke her eye out. Maybe she thinks the air pressure will pop her ears out. Sadly, Nicole could not overcome her fear and gave me an un-inflated balloon. I tried to pretend it was a dead snake balloon but inside I sighed at the lackluster effort.

Luckily, Julia's bday was able to rescue me from my sadness. It is funny that it was a romantic day and someone else's birthday but I got to dine at my favorite restaurant, Seoul Garden. When I was not reveling in tantalizing yumminess, I enjoyed people watching the quiet couple that were seated upstairs with us. For the theme of Valentines, the restaurant had balloons with cards inside which represented what percent discount you would receive. The sympathetic hostess was nice enough to let Julia pop one too because it was her birthday.

Along with Valentines came funny protest by anti-love people on campus. One even accosted Julia for having roses sent by her boyfriend. The cuddle-haters were well set up with pamphlets and signs. My favorite was something on the lines of "Love misspelled backwards spells evil"--lol. But when I thought about the anti-love_ites, I went back to the quote from the guy who made the Simpsons. "When the authorities warn you of the dangers of having sex, there is an important lesson to be learned. Do not have sex with the authorities." So my advice to poeple who walk by the protesters is laugh but don't try to save thier them.

Two days later came Nicole's birthday. Giftwise, I got Nicole a artsy green picture frame and a sweet passion purple lamp whose shade rotates by the heat of the light bulb. Also, I got this giant ball that slowly changes colors to set some atmosphere for Nicole's bday, but I'm keeping that sweet machine. In addition, I was going to pile 453.6 graham crackers to spell and "happy birthday" and tell Nicole "Here is your POUND cake". Instead, I opted to make her favorite chocolate frosted white cake with sprinkles. Little did I know she would gorge into the cake and feel those unearthly heights of passion on her birthday but would not touch the leftovers. I ended up dumping 3/4ths of the cake a month later, sprinkles and all.

Now the question of the week in this birthday-inspired blogs is Jimmy's or Sprinkles. Most set the argument like the soda verses pop. They say that sprinkles are more excepted as the word describing the topping and that it is colloquial in places like Pittsburgh to call it Jimmys, like pop. Unfortunately, Jimmys vs Sprinkles is a little more complicated.

Some people like Nicole say Jimmys do not exist. Others say that all those treats are all Jimmys. Still there are those like my coworker Amber and I who believe the rod shaped ones are Jimmys. Finally, some believe the rod shaped chocolate ones are the only Jimmys.

This led me to do some research and here are the results. The Jimmy was invented in Pennsylvania by the same company that makes my favorite Mike N Ikes. They were originally just chocolate shaped rods. Eventually other flavors, colors and shapes arose. Still they distinguish the rods as Jimmys and the whole group as Sprinkles. Eventually the Sprinkle name was seen as more marketable so the word Jimmy has become regional and may fade away. Still if you work at a good Ice cream place, you can order a box and it will still say Jimmys on them.

Always glad to share my ignorance - I've got plenty.


Your Personal Hero
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pchewy
Anshu Gupta
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Jermey Returns For Happy Hour

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Jeremy comes back to visit 2/12
Today I present a one time only special. Read this blog and we will grant you free passage to the kingdom of heaven. No questions asked. You just have to drink every time I mention Long Island Ice Tea [Void by racists, rapists, evangelists and people whose name rhymes with feral]

Country Roads take me home…
To the place I belong;
Happy Valley, Home of Joepa,
Take me home, country roads...

Now that version of the famous song is the one I sing whenever I return to Happy Valley from a road trip. It is a tradition, just like when you come back to Pennsylvania you are supposed to roll down your windows, take a deep breath, and suck in that beautiful PA smell (hopefully you are not downwind from Jersey where the tradition is to spit out the window). This Country Roads tradition started by a singer, Cunningham, a cover band made famous at Cafe 210's Friday Happy Hour.

In my undergrad, I used to yell at Mondays and scorn Tuesdays. I used to vow to others I would maim Wednesdays and mess up the hair of Thursdays. In fact, Monday through Thursdays lived in fear. They all knew their days were numbered (no pin intended). You have to admit that those days are inconsequential, just wasted time until it was Friday and I was in love...with my 210 happy hour. It was the earliest happy hour to jump-start your weekend. After I turned 21, it was the place to meet up with a fun subset of my friends.

At $2 dollar, the price break on the Long Island Ice Teas special made it a prerequisite at every Cafe 210's Friday Happy Hour visit. Long Island Ice Teas are proof that God loves us, and only thing better than buying a Long Island Ice Tea is my favorite drink on Fridays. What I like to drink most, you may wonder, is obviously the Long Island Ice Tea that belongs to others. When Jeremy was a TA, one of his students gave us free Long Island Ice Teas. How beautiful, right? Cuando amor no es locura, no es amor (When love is not madness, it is not love.) I amor my Long Island Ice Tea--he-he.

Unfortunately, Cunningham fell ill with a heart attack after we graduated and no longer performs. I am sure it had nothing to do with the smoking, drinking and going to bars all his life. Now "JR and Woman" have taken his place as the cover band you get to listen when drowning in sweet refreshing Long Island Ice Teas. It is defiantly not the same, but I like JR and Woman from the numerous times I saw them holding a "Monkeyboy" at my favorite get-smashed bar, "The Saloon". I call them JR and Woman because JR has gone through several accompanying women since I started listening to him: Shari, Deb, and now Kate. I think Deb was my favorite flavor of the week, but that may be just because she looked the best and I drank the most then.

This weekend Jeremy and his wife came to town so nostalgia forced us to visit Cafe 210 for a few rounds of Long Island Ice Teas. They were both visiting for career fair, but now the tables were turned. They were the people who were recruiting the undergraduates. Lisa had such an exhausting line of applicants eager for employment it must have been heaven when she was finished. Now Lisa could just bounce with her man and friends at happiest Friday spot, Cafe 210; obviously with a Long Island Ice Tea chilling her hand.

Happy hour will always remind me of Trouble and Dicke who I was with most of the times I have gone there. I once dreamt that Trouble got her toes amputated so she could stand closer to the stage while Dicke was behind the bar for some reason saying he was from Long Island so he should mix the drinks. --I know, I know. I need to enter rehab, but that is for quitters. I also will give a huge shout out to SneakAttack, SpecialBrew, and Melanie who were my happy hour postgraduate comrades.

Cafe 210 is more preppy and low key then the other bars I frequent. In addition, you start your evening there so you probably do not have to adhere to the rules of the crowbar to avoid ugly women and fights. "Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things." Then again, that might be standard advice when bar bouncing.

What you do have to remember at 210 is that it is probably a little earlier than you are use to going out. Therefore, make sure you do not blow all your finances or you will a moocher the rest of the night. Now do not do what I do, just do what I say in this matter--hehe. Then again, the times I went nuts were some of the best times. Who needs money anyway? Most money is tainted; taint' yours and it taint' mine.

The next thing you should remember is before you come to 210, eat. If you do not follow my advice, it is okay. It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others. Another gem of advice is when you leave 210 after drinking more than four Long Island Ice Teas, be cautious. It only takes a bananosecond to experience pain. (Bananosecond: Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement which is equal to the time it takes for girls to do the same in high heels after 210 drinking).

Man, all this talk makes me wish I had some Long Island Ice teas right now, but I would probably be giving you different advice, like how to pick up someone. I guess that can be seen as advice too, be wary of what your friends tell you.

I guess the most important thing to remember though is do not go so wild that your spent for the night and passed out in 20 minutes afterwards. You probably do not have a breathalyzer on your cell phone keeping you from making drunken calls, so do not call anyone unless you are going to be funny. Similar warning goes with IM, a warning I think Amy can appreciate: WARNING: the crumsumpten of alcahol may mack you tihnk you can tipe real gode.

Life's a tough job, and the hours are a bitch, but sometimes you can spend a magical hour that last two at a special place and time we will are remember as 210 Happy Hour. I feel sorry for people who do not drink. When they wake up in the morning that is as good as they are going to feel all day. Well it was fun having Jeremy and the crew visit. Raise up your Long Island Ice Tea glasses and do the 210 toast, "Here's to you and here's to me; and if we both disagree, fuck you, here's to me and my true friend Long Island Ice Tea"

Your Personal Hero
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pchewy
Anshu Gupta
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A capella and Lisa Returns for crowbar fun

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Is it my imagination, or do Buffalo wings taste like chicken? I used to get wings all the time, especially this Mystery sauce from Wing Zone. Leave it to Nicole to get wasted one night after chomping some wings and associate one with the other. Now I am subjugated to get my meat fix during company lunches. I am not sure if it was the wing deprivation or the dipping sauce I got at Prospectors, but the wings I engulfed transformed me to another plane of existence where everything unworldly seemed to come into sharp focus. During my spicy epiphany, I finally found out why the chicken crossed the road. It is art. -a chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion-hehe. ANYwho, I munched so many wings for lunch that I was not too hungry for dinner but was looking forward to tonight.

We went to see an a cappella competition in the HUB tonight. A cappella is two words; do you have any idea how long it took me to find that out; Microsoft Word was no help. ANYwho, for said a cappella we waited in the longest line I have seen outside of an amusement park. Frantically, we looked for Bert, Dave, and his girlfriend, but randomly ran into Anna and her friend before Bert'n crew found us. The show was a renowned success, and the clear winners were hilarious beyond their talent. The halls were filled with laughter and merriment. They sang songs from our childhood to today, from Rescue Rangers theme song though Backstreet Boys up to Usher's current hit. I have no idea why it took the judges so long to tally their votes and release the results.

I have actually been going to this competition for several years since my freshman/sophomore roommate was in the music fraternity Phi Mu Alpha. It is one of those cannot miss PSU musical events like seeing the thespians at haunted Schwab, the free bands at Movin' On or Artsfest, or joining the marching band at the end of the Homecoming parade.

Musically speaking, my favorite band is "The Cure" which itunes.com somehow thinks is punk?? In reality, I am quite eclectic in the range of music I like. If you are lucky, you might even see me trip over people during a country line dance, push people twice my size in a mosh pit, shake like a lunatic to rap in my car or celebrate Steelers touchdowns hand in hand with friends bouncing to good polka.

Chorus to the best polka song ever: "I don't want her. You can have her; she's too fat for me" [switch partners]; [repeat] "I don't want her. You can have her; she's too fat for me".-Lol. There's nothing in the world more fun that lifting someone's mom up and passing her around to this song.

Okay prepare yourself now for my favorite musical joke [drum roll, please]:

"Show me a piano falling down a mineshaft
…and I will show you A-flat minor."

Wow, hold your composure. Do not pee your pants. Okay, the joke may seem childish but when you read the heart-breaking story of my musical life, you will know why my musical humor is stuck with my musical skills in elementary school.

My music career is the standard artist story of the system crushing the spirits of the dreamer. I was stifled as a child in grade school when my chorus teachers was knocked up with child and replaced with a kindergarten teacher that I did not know. On her first day, the new chorus director wanted to gage our singing voices so she whipped out a puppet that she made say, "Hello so-and-so, would sing for me?"

One by one like obedient lambs, the other schoolchildren would sing. Then the puppet would congratulate them until my turn came. The puppet turned to me and sang, "Sing high-er!" with the last syllable being raised in her high soprano voice. From all accounts, I froze for a few seconds with this puzzled "What you talking about Willis?" look. When the teacher tried to use the puppet again to demand that I "Sing high-er" I said, "I'll do it again louder, but I'm not going to sing to a puppet!" This led to my dismissal to the principle office with a note of disapproval.

Now by this time in my lustrous four years of schooling, my principle knew me as a model fun loving kid. I assume that he thought I was coming for something the new teacher needed so he offered me a piece of candy. He was confused when I said, "I don't think I get candy" and handed him the note the teacher gave me. As he read the note, he was noticeably surprised that I was there for disciplinary reasons. Instead of following policy and taking me into his office to discuss the situation he asked in shock, "What could you have done?"

I responded, "I'm not going to sing to a puppet." I could see the principle crack a smile that he tried to hide as the secretaries and counselors in the office half laughing tried to look away to conceal that they were listening and thought it was funny. I think they were all on my side and proud of my courage. In the end, the principal took me into his office where he said I could just leave chorus if I wanted to, thus stunting what most undoubtedly would have been a famed musical career that would have changed American Idols competition to who wants to tour with Pchewy. Still, I spoke truth the power and was rewarded with a green Charms lollipop with gum, my favorite.

ANYwho, away from my career-crushing trauma, and back to the weekend we go. I left everyone before the official reading of the judge in the a capella competition because SneakAttack called. Since she was visiting for the weekend, she invited me to join her to see "Giants of Science" at the "Crowbar". For those poor souls that do not know Giants of Science, they are an awesome cheesy 80 cover band with painted chalk faces that are famous for their crazy antics involving wet t-shirts, drinking games, and assorted challenges like that. Since I will probably never go platinum, I will just have to enjoy the musical talents of others like Giants of Science at great venues like the Crowbar.

Let me tell you a few things that I believe. I believe the Crowbar is the best venue for music in State College because it has the strong legacy of being converted from a two-story Burger King to what it is today. I also believe all you Bryce Jordon lovers are punks comparing the intimacy of a venue like the Crowbar to the corporate mass marketing of Bryce. I believe Giants of Science is one of the premier cover bands in Happy Valley, especially when they play at the Crowbar. I believe everyone is entitled to my opinion.

It was enough of a surprise to run into Anna earlier. When I got to the Crowbar, I bumped into Celery's old roommate Debb who was in Florida last semester. After some reacquainting, I met up with SneakAttack and her boyfriend who were sitting with Sexkitten and her boyfriend. Then Kim came by in an amusing way. Kim was kind of like Slinkies ... not really good for anything, but you can't help smiling when you see one tumble down the stairs. Kim was buzzed which most certainly led her to stumble down the one stair separating the second floor from a sunken viewing area on the second floor. I would like to make fun of Kim more for that trip, except I tripped walking up it forgetting it was there. Why is it that when you are walking up the stairs and you get to the top you always think there is still one more step? I guess we are two peas in a pod.

After some drinks, we left the boyfriends and went down to the dance floor. The loveliest of faces are set by stage light, when one sees half with the eye and half with the fancy. It was soooo much fun. It was also the first time I saw Kim dance too. Apparently, her love of the Crowbar makes it the only place she dances. Can anybody blame her?

While I was lost in song and dances from before my time, I was flooded with memories of the dozens of different bands I have seen at the venue. I discovered "Republica" and saw legends like "G-Love" and "Vanilla Ice" on his comeback tour. Over the times, I have learned the two rules to remember in the crowbar.

Rule one is to take it easy, Don't fight. Do not push, shove, or get in a huge fight because some drunk person runs into you. Also, lay off the arguments with your significant others. Why ruin a fun night?

The second rule is be wary of women you meet in the Crowbar. The drinks are flowing so do not go after girls and just assume they are as attractive they appear. Um, I am not talking for personal experience (hopefully you believe that).

After some heartache with fights and hooches, I have created a way to avoid the two Crowbar sins. The thing that works for me with girls is to see how much they are sweating to gauge their non-beer goggle size. The advice to keep from fighting is just to chill yourself, ignore others and focus on the music.


Luckily SneakAttack, Kim, and Sexkitten were neither fighters nor sweaters so I had fun just watching the drama of those around us who did not follow the rules. I guess my advice to all can be summed up like this: "Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things."

Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
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Trouble's New Tounge Ring

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There is a fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness". Nicole thinks blogging is the latter. Currently, she is awaiting trial for sabotaging my steady blog updates. No sane jury would acquit her. Everyone knows it. With her high high-falutin lawyers though, it will never reach a trial. She might escape formal prosecution but my avid readers will know she is the excuse for the time delay in the posts. If you are reading this now and are outraged, fell free to IM her some wrath.

Still, I wrote a few disheveled outlines, but I have not converted them to the type of English mere mortals would comprehend. I guess I am a slacker. I figure the sooner you fall behind, the more time you will have to catch up. Unfortunately, I took this logic a bit too far and now my subscribers are demanding new and exciting material, some going as far as demanding their money back. To those who have sent complaints, sawed-off! I will take my sweet time missy. If you cannot rush genius, than surely you push a visionary like me. For those who give me any more trouble, I shall visit you in the small hours and put a bat up your nightdress.

ANYwho, reviewing my web gallery flashes me back to Trouble whom I am super proud of because of the way she has transformed her life into more of what she is capable of by going to graduate school in Arizona. My dear friend Trouble has yet again done the kewlest thing. While most people succumb to sadness and loneliness when they move somewhere new, Trouble decided to take her time in a different environment to try new things. We can all learn from that idea.

Every weekend Trouble tries something new or renewed like going to the zoo or learning to salsa dance. This time her impetuous thirst for fun took her to get her tongue pierced. While most people after undergraduate become conservative and lame, Trouble is still squeezing zest out of life no matter how retarded it makes her sound, and tongue piercing do make one sound silly. All the while, she is joining prestigious groups and pursuing a PHD in child development (--No going Ahhh now I know why she is friends with you, child development, pchewy is a big kid).

Coincidentally, it was a fiery piercing that first drew me to Trouble long before we formally met. She worked as a checker at McLahahands. I knew her as the cute girl with the eyebrow piercing that could be seen in the background of our home videos of our college escapades around town. It was more than a year later that I met her for real though mutual friends. Since then, Trouble has gotten many impressive piercing and jewelry all of which I am a fan of.

The eyebrow one I think is the most personable one in the way that one should only get it if it fits their personality. Trouble has changed a little since then and her eyebrow ring has been phased out, but there is this new tongue piercing to revitalize the fun.

Most of the other piercing Trouble has I think all girls should get, such as the ear tips and the cartilage in the upper ear. I used always tell people I would like to get my nipple pierced like Trouble. Unfortunately, with fear of injury during sports and my personal lack of nipple real estate, my dream will probably never come to fruition. Still, I cannot think of a reason why most girls who are not that active would not want the nipple pierced. Similar logic goes to piercing in jungle spider nether regions.

The next big piercing I am a fan of is the belly ring. Every heterosexual male and even the monkeys that live next door to me agree that they are hot. However, we all know that girls do not really do that kind of things to get male attention as much as express themselves, compete, and impress other girls. Still, nothing says summer fun more than that little twinkle drawing your stare. For some reason I put them on par with toe rings and I just really like the gleam like a new copper penny. I feel sorry for those girls who are infectious prone and steer away from that.

The other piercing left is the glamorous exclusively personally driven ones like the eyebrow piercing or chin studs. They should be preformed for people who appreciate the art and freedom of expression rather than just being rebellious or trendy. My favorite among those that Trouble has gotten is the nose piecing. Coming from an Indian heritage, the large nose piercing worn by married Indian women always reminded me of bulls and has negative connotations from my perspective. Still the very tiny, almost glitter dot sized ones I think is kewl. In addition, I think they work for most girls no matter their ethnicity but it seems not enough girls are daring enough to try.

Well I almost feel like I should bust in on a discussions of tattoos and outline the ones Trouble has that I like, but I do not want to ruin all of her soap opera mystic. I will say the tattoo above the buttocks on the lower back is called a "San Diego License plate", just so when I mention it conversation I will not need to explanation it for what feels like the thousandth time. I am not saying that Trouble has one but that it is my general suggestion as to wear girls should get one.

So I'll just end with a shout of my approval for the most recent tongue piercing and Trouble's revitalized search to improve her life. I am proud of you babe. You remind me of that quote from the person whose cancer went into remission. They said on motivational speaking circuit, "I wish everyone could live life like you were dying." It is somewhat odd to envy the ill, but sometimes their perspective is awe-inspiring. I think Trouble has had enough hardship in her life to know how important it is to cherish your time in good health on this wacky wet world, and it is from her I get strength when I need it.

Anywho, this quick blog was just to send some love out to my sweet friend Trouble, and remind her that her good friends will keep in touch because life without you would be like a broken pencil. --How's that? -Completely pointless. (Awe, can you believe I am ending it on a sappy note? Do not try to typecast me into being just another prankster punks!)

Blowing u a kiss, u can't avoid it, it's cheeck-seeker.

Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
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