Features
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
The Worlds Smartest Man, answers all of your
questions. From zany trivia to your most deepest thoughts. Miah has the
Answers. |
|
 |
|
Constantly in production the
101 Lists are a big favorite to readers of emptyv.org. |
|
 |
|
The worlds local artists everyday defining
what it takes to be a modern independent musician. |
|
 |
|
Keep updated with current projects and how you
can get involved |
|
 |
|
Check out the staff that put together
everything of emptyv.org |
|
 |
|
Read the online Magazine buy the stuff. |
|
 |
|
Check out what emptyv.org has been up to in
the past. |
Other
|
|
|
|
|
|
Advertise on Emptyv |
|
Since August 30, 2002 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
01-08-03 |
M.I.A NO MORE! |
|
|
I
know it's been said a thousand times, but let me re-iterate:
DON'T TRUST WOMEN
I had a decent life.
I'm 23 years old, a decent looking guy, fairly well liked by most that
meet me.
Add to all of that the fact that I live with my girlfriend of over five
years and you have a recipe for happiness, correct?
NO! It isn't so, and don't let anybody fool you!
About a year ago, I got laid off from my job, so I went soul-searching
(meaning, I spent alot of time on my ass collecting unemployment, but
bear with me here.) What I found was what I wanted to do with my life. I
took classes, got certifications, got a job. Wonderful.
"Edge, what's the problem?"
I'm getting there, just pay attention. See, September of '01, me and my
gal moved in together, and I had no problem with our arrangement: she
paid the bills, she cleaned, we had sex occasionally. I see no problem
with this, but it was a ploy. The very SECOND I found employment, she was
eight inches up my ass, all about "So, where's my ring?"
"Uhm...well...uhm..."
So now I'm engaged. I don't really know how it happened. One second,
she's got her arms crossed waiting for me to answer that question, then
the world became fuzzy for a few days, and all the sudden she's showing
off a ring to her family and friends.
I think what happened is I didn't see the blind, ninja bunny rabbits
lurking in the corner, waiting to knock me out after she asked the
question. She carried my limp body to the car, "Weekend at Bernies"
style, drove me to the jewelers, forged my signature on the credit-card
slip...
...and now my life is officially over. I feel I'm balding already. She
asked another question the other day:
"So, when will the wedding be?"
"Uhm...mmmm....uhm..." I spun quickly, but no ninja-bunnies were waiting
for me this time. I shouldn't have turned my back on her, though. My
testicles have now been removed and sit in a jar in the bedroom. She did
let me have them the other night to go out with the guys, but made sure
to call my cell 26 1/2 times (the 1/2 was a ninja-bunny) to make sure I
was in fact at the bar with only guys. Crazy.
Basically, this article is pointless, y'all, but the point is I'm no
longer missing in action, I'm back and working on my next 101 list: 101
Reasons to NOT Get Married
Peace out you nasty ninja-bunnies,
Edge |
|
