Sunshine Highway

Right. Sweet merciful crap how I hate Bill gates. I have a great idea. Why don't I make 1/3 of a product, then make the consumer pay for upgrades to make the original piece of shit I sold them work the way I told them it would? Wait my idea is getting better. Then, why don't I make your shit obsolete and sell what you will eventually buy to a ton of ass clowns so they can slap whatever the fuck they want on what you will buy? I'll bet I'll make billions.
Fuck. That idea was already taken by Dildo Baggins. I hate that mother fucker. Since you have more dollars than there are people on earth, why not pay my student loans off you greedy fuckstick? Because you are a douche and your lying mouth is nothing more than a lying cock holster that's why.
For the past three weeks I have been going to the gym instead of just running outside and finding a pull up bar to do obnoxious amounts of pull ups on. Let me tell you, the gym is stupid. I spend like a half hour just waiting to use whatever machine I want to use, and I have to listen to a bunch of clowns talk about how big their dicks are and blah blah blah. When the macho men finally shut up, my ears are greeted by Bon Jovi. The most bothersome part of the gym is this extra loud bitch with a whistle. She blows the goddamn thing and her lackeys follow her around and they all do whatever the fuck new bullshit there is to do.
Why the fuck does anyone need a coach to work out? And what is with these exercises? I saw a grown man playing with a fucking giant beach ball today. Embarrassing. I have a workout for you. It's called run 7 miles. Then tomorrow, run 7 miles again and try to beat your time. If you fail, you don't eat until you do. Repeat for a few months. You'll be square.
The only good part of the gym is I occasionally get to look at some one's wife and have visions of tossing salad. Except today when this rather large (and not like fat, just sort of big and mean looking) Captain is extra excited to see me. She wants to go jog with me.
Listen lady, I don't fucking jog. I don't. I run. I run fast and hard because it's the best part of my day. I just bought new running shoes and I want to melt them. I do not want to keep these shoes.
We ran. I use the term, "we" loosely. She did her best and I ran slower than I prefer. She wants to jog again tomorrow. I laughed. Can't do it. I have plans. It's a little thing called triathlon tryouts.
I have half a bag of Redman in my mouth right now. I can't even breathe.
I wish someone would tell me what's up with my hands. My veins are huge all of a sudden. I hope this is a sign they will let me leave the Army. I don't know why it would be, but I am told there are signs everywhere.
I watched a movie last night. A movie I have long wanted to see. Due to copyright laws I am not allowed to tell you the name of this movie. But allow me to give you my one sentence review of this movie: Too much pursuit and not enough happiness.
I see that girls gone wild is going to open up a themed restaurant. This is a bad idea. When I am knocking back a BLT I don't want to watch Suzy make out with her roommate. This is lunch, not a bar. A girls gone wild themed bar is a good idea. A restaurant, where I have to eat things and watch drunk girls make bad decisions is not a good idea.