I went to the doctor today to get rid of a batch of herpes I got over the weekend (the whore told me she was clean :evil: ) and I found out that I fit into the catergory of people at risk for the dreaded flu. The same dreaded flu that gives you a cold for 2 days, and causes you to MAYBE miss one day of work. So the doc gives me the flu shot, and I am almost positive that in about 3 days, I'll be flat on my ass, half dead from contracting the damn Asian Fever (which was the reason I got herpes in the first place). So if I die in a couple days, you can blame it on the flu shot, or....

Blame it on P Diddy, since I am sure he's after me for not voting. I guarantee he's got some sick list of non-voters, and is some kind of Death Santa, bringing pain and destruction to all the stupid foo's who didn't vote. Speaking of the subject, I was asked probably 30 times today if I am going to vote, when I am going to vote, or who I am voting for. First off, it's nobodies f****ing business who I vote for. Second, I ain't voting for nobody. I'm not an incredibly wealthy rich white man with business interests, so Kerry and Bush don't give a rats ass about me. And as for voting on local matters, I wouldn't know who 99 percent of the people on the ballot all, so for all I know, I could be voting for a child molester!

So after I went to the doctors office, I swung by Wal Mart to see if they had Up your Arsenal yet. No dice. But I did notice something. Is it just me, or do all Wal Mart employees look like they were recruited from Alabama trailer parks? They all have more letters in their first name than teeth in their mouths, and considering most of them are named Bill or Joe or Cindi, that's not a good thing. And what's with these old greeter guys? Never has anyone greeted me while I walked into a Wal Mart. I guess a 6'5" large white man doesn't need his day brightened up? Well piss off greeters, I hope you all break your hips. Most of these Wal Mart employees just love their jobs too. They seem like they would rather be mens room attendants at George Michael's house. Oh well, when your stuck in that type of crappy job, wouldn't YOU rather be whacked off by a washed up 80's pop star too?