Worst Post Ever

Got a lot off my chest today, 235 pounds to be exact, lifted for two hours today, gettin more Tongan by the day. I wanna be able to hit 250 a few times by the end of the year, I hope to someday change my last name to Bradyolanitani and get one of those bitchin tribal tats on my forearm. That’d be soo flippin sweet.

Anyway, lunch with the fellas today, the times, they were powerful good, the food was cheap and greasy, (jus like your mom). Russel smoked the shit outta Scott’s mustang, and he doesn’t even know how to shift, and Cahill came in second. Four burnouts and 3 pot stickers later I was back home, strappin on my shoes for the days run.

Last finals tommorow, iono bout you guys but I got Maff and History and I’m a tid bit nervous about failing miserably and living the rest of my life without the slighest idea of what the hell a ‘octohedron’ looks like! History shaint be as bad, but chocolate of boxes you get what you always know. Dyslexia is funny.

Well if this post hasn’t livin up to its title than its about to, heres some shots of me when I was about three years of age:

Rockin the plaid shirt (grunge status) – Very cool Jacket – Up close and personalComment if you know whats good for you, (1% milk)

– It would take pinky 45 minutes to finish this
– Ghetto Ipod Case
– Robots
– Spliff Rollin 101

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