Nada. Zilch.


There is nothing new or worth mentioning in the world of plastic crack.


Fine. I'm gonna use this space to publicly bitch about the fact that the package containing my Ravage X-9 got stolen from where my mail gets dropped.

Grr. Grrrrr. Argh. Arrrggghhhhh.


Indeed. That sucks the balls.

Yes, but the shocking thing is how little I really care about getting neither the figure nor my money back. A few months ago I would have tap danced on the mail carrier's face for leaving it there. Maybe I'm finally starting to see the borders of my obsession.

Maybe you just need more rage in your life. I'll tap dance on em, in concrete shoes!

Actually, Giga, my brother's the ragaholic in my family. There's never much ragahol left after he gets at it. You should have heard him last weekend after he stepped in dog vomit.

Not that I would have taken it in stride, but man. . . there were some curse words in there he must have made up, or he was just reduced to some ur-language.

Honestly, I love the crack but I guess I've recently decided it's not worth speeding up the inevitable heartattack. Now if my Magmatron goes missing too, then I might break out the face/tap-dancing shoes.

Leave a comment

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Nala published on January 23, 2006 12:27 PM.

Ramen Junkie rocks! was the previous entry in this blog.

Whatever. is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.


OpenID accepted here Learn more about OpenID
Powered by Movable Type 5.03