The Adventures of Half-Sack.

Well, I was going to keep this to myself, but what better to share my shitty fucked up life with you dicks, who will eventually use it to attack me with pathetic insults and comebacks only your mom would ask back. All of you may know me as the gentle, kind and loving guy who always talked about how big his balls are and how you'll never amount to anything. You got that right. Especially the balls part. This is a story about my testicles, and how paying attention to your beans will pay out in the end. Especially when you're early. They aren't kidding when they say to inspect your body for anything unnatural. I did that, and found Gilligan's Island growing on my right nut. Things didn't really seem different until I started to notice drastic changes and slight pain. My body was telling me to get it checked but the porn was telling me to stay. Decisions like this are usually saved for the most important of men, and that day, I was a VIP in my own right. I could say this is all life changing, but so is taking a dump, because they're all usually never the same. Gratifying if you will. This however did make me see things in a whole new light, and somehow, I'm going to be a little more cautious and less arrogant when it comes to watching porn. Oh and life as well.

Instead of being a closed minded cock bolt, try something different for a change, you saggy old vagina.

Food. It doesn't stop at just apples and mangoes. Pineapple shouldn't be the biggest extreme of your life. Going to Mandarin shouldn't be considered fine dining. Well, unless all you've ever tried in your life was fried foods served in Styrofoam containers. Sure, it's awesome to stick with what's known and good, but sometimes you gotta ask yourself if there's something else out there. Instead of ordering pizza, go to an actual pizza restaurant. See how REAL pizza is made. You probably want to say, " BUT JP LOLZ, ITZ 2 EXPENSIV LOLZ.!" Well, my illiterate shit stain, instead of spending money on fast food all the time, or clothes you'll never wear, games you'll never play after beating or toys because you're really an infantile jerk at heart - you can easily save, oh I don't know, 20 bucks? Because fresh, restaurant made pizza doesn't cost you your first born. Usually people are so close minded when it comes to eating out ( I'll get on the thing you're thinking of in another blog you dumb fuck.), that they always feel that going out means they have to dish out loads of money. This is only true if you are retarded and pay more than 10 bucks for chicken wings. Especially when it comes in a basket with paper outlining.

A blog about Fashion, and why you DON'T look good.

Okay listen up women. I love you. I love everything about you in terms of anatomy. I love the fact that you curl your toes when you hit an orgasm, or when you scream into a pillow to soften the yell. I love that you claw at my back when I hit the right spot, or bite my lip when I kiss you the right way. I love when you drop something, only to pick it up and tuck your silken hair behind your ear. I love when you accidentally burp, then covering your mouth only to burp louder. I love when you go out to get me something that you think I like, and wind up getting something different but with good intent. I love that you wear my pj's because they're warm as hell and you look super cute with those pants. I love it when you wear my leafs jersey during a game, and after when things get intimate. I love when I play my favorite video game, you go out and research it, then coming back with a plush doll of one of the characters which ends up being used as a toy for my dog/cat. I love when you wear that red lingerie and while walking outdoors you hint towards it, and we end up doing a quickie in your dad's car. I love when you drink too much that your cheeks turn red and you trip over your feet only to fall on my lips and bust a nerve or something, causing us both to hit the ER. I love when you pass your exam fully excited, only to come home to your sick boyfriend, and nurturing him back to health so he can go back to playing Call of Duty. I love so much about you, and I can list much more. But for fuck's sake please stop wearing those shitty boots.

I hope you enjoy that Big-Mac when you dine in HELL!

Fast food is a crime. It's a crime against humanity. It's a crime against the animal kingdom. It's a crime against the Ten Commandments. Overall, it's just plain wrong. NOW, before I go on, I am going to contradict everything I've said to this point. Fast food is okay. Now, you might say, "JAYPEE LOL, WTF IZ RONG WIT U LOLZ U LIE LOLZ XD!" So before I proceed to beat the shit out of your retarded keyboard abusive ways, I will tell you that everyone at least once, succumbs to fast food consumption. It's just the way we are. Whether it be a craving or just tight on time, we've all been there. I for one, despise going to fast food joints, but really what can you determine is fast food? Most diners in America are fast serving, and they use a lot of processed goods, but yet it's not considered fast food. I guess the guy in the back with no cooking experience, who continues to make sloppy joes, would be considered a chef. I sure as hell don't know. I for one like going to diners and all those 'home cooked meals' kind of places. It brings its own kind of air. Something reminiscent of my American childhood if I had one. But in all honesty, I could never understand the idiocy of our kind when it comes to fast food. We're all just dumb fucks when it comes to health.

Practice Safe Faith.

RELIGION! Haha, sounds scary don't it? Something that stirs up the greatest of troubles over a simple press of a key. I can probably turn many people who actually look forward to reading my blogs, into people who'll create hungry mobs and carry pitchforks and such. I'm not going to praise anything in this post, nor will I bash whatever faith you believe in. I'm not atheist, to set things clear. Nor do I just believe things will happen by the will of anything. I guess I'm stuck in my own little world, where faith plays a smaller role than usual. I have it, and always will. I respect the way my parents raised me and they never once forced it upon me. I'm grateful for that and its sad that many other families don't have this luxury. Faith should never be forced on anyone. It should be up to the person to believe in what they want to believe. Whether it be nothing, or some spaghetti monster in the sky, it's their faith. I for one, would like to delve a little deeper in this extremely taboo subject, only because it piques an exquisite interest of mine, which is belief and knowledge. I'm not scientist, or scholar, nor do I have the wisdom to pass down judgment of any kind. I just like to see things through different perspectives, and taste a little from each side.

The Love Bug - Why it will give you cancer and take your lunch money.

Another relationship topic with yours truly. This time, it'll be a little more in depth but subtle, with a hint of vanilla. It's something that ticks me off sometimes, when I see couples flaunt themselves all over the place. Love is a great thing to experience, and its unlike anything you've ever had. That's why you're not in love and you just find the other person attractive enough to have sex with. Which is fine. But don't put pictures of yourselves sucking each others faces on your social sites, expecting people to really mean it when they comment something like, " U GUYZ R SO CUTE LOL!" Really, they're saying, " OMG I WISH I WUZ HER!" Jealousy is a bitch, and it strikes even the most retarded of us. Becoming jealous of a petty relationship is even more stupid. If you were really in love, you wouldn't need to post it everywhere letting the world to know. You're not Romeo and your girlfriend looks like James Blunt, may he rest in peace (I'm off to kill him now). Honestly though, you should share everything with your partner, down to the last timbit, but when it comes to exploitation, you look like a jerk. No one gives a shit if you met with your boyfriend and he bought you a flower. He probably did something bad because he couldn't afford a dozen.

If I farted in your mouth would you still call me father?

I've been through a lot of thinking these last couple of weeks and I've been walking every now and then for long periods of time. It helps me clear my mind of whatever it is I'm wrapping my grease filled brain around and also lose some excess chunk. Just the usual, what am I doing and what do I have in plan. Who will I date and who is even a woman. Those things. I like to let my mind wander sometimes, let it free itself and think of anything that comes to me. The other day, I was thinking about some random person I met during my walks. We barely even talked but we had some sort of connection. The moment we looked at each other, thoughts flowed rapidly as we shared the minute between souls. I was thinking about lust, love and power. What would happen if I would have talked to this woman and what could happen in the future. Nothing true mind you, but hey that's what imagination is for. She was probably thinking that I should shave and probably blow my nose, for at the time I sneezed an elephant on the ttc booth. Regardless, its times like this that I somewhat remember most. The quick times I spend just glancing at someone.

Prologue - Complete!

Well, it's been long and arduous. All this writing about myself for you jerks to probably just glance at and forget. I'm still glad I put it all out there, showing what I went through with all of you. I've been through hell, and sure, not everything was explained in pure detail because there are some things I wish to be kept to myself. Not that I have anything against you meat sacks, but because there are experiences in life that you cherish and loathe, and those are yours to live. You should understand, unless you're fucking retarded. Which is probably true. Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for reading or even following me up to this point, I know it's been long and I haven't been the one to shorten my essay-length posts but still, it all had heart. Everything I said here has meaning and I hope it helps you in any way possible. If you become a serial killer, just promise me one thing. Don't touch my hair. There's many more things for me to experience in life, and a million ways to do so. I don't know what's set out for me or what I will find, but I'm going to press forward with an open mind and an empty stomach.

Torn Asunder - Breathing Life into an Empty Shell

That last post, eh? What a doozy, made me almost shed a tear for the past me, and I'll be honest everything I have written so far has been straight from the heart. All of this at the time I wanted to die with me but I began to realize that it would be very selfish of me to retain what little knowledge I have. I mean, I'm not saying I'm a higher being or whatever, but I have experienced things that some of you may not have, or did. I just want to show you all how it is through my eyes and how choices, no matter how little, can affect the entirety of your life. Sometimes we make bad decisions and follow through with them only to face failure, but it is when you accept failure that you actually begin to follow the path to success. Everyone goes through ruts, a time and phase where everything around you comes to a stop. Where your life is in question and nothing makes sense anymore. There are those who will help you and those who will gradually bring you down, without remorse. Only when you accept your rut, and then begin to think of ways to get out, will you find happiness. Whether it be a loss of a loved one, breakup, got fired, bullied or whatever. Fear even. It's all the same when it comes to depression, life just sucks. Letting depression get the best of you, like it did me, is not the best choice. I've been to places that men only have nightmares of. I've seen things that would instill fear in the bravest of people. That is all part of life, and I chose all these paths. I do not regret a single thing however, because it is when I accepted all this that I began to see my true purpose in life.

Torn Asunder - The Birth of Tragedy.

Holy what an emo title eh? Usually I would start with a paragraph that has nothing to do with my story, but since this is a very special topic for me, I would like to add a certain gravity to the subject. Make it feel more so than usual. I'm talking about my jump into depression. Probably the scariest trip I've ever taken and it was a long one. I've looked back from time to time seeing where I've gone wrong in my travels, trying to answer every question I could possibly muster. I just can't. Not that I won't, but some answers are just best left riddles because that way I know that there is more to my life than open doorways. There is always pain and suffering in our lifetimes, whether we like it or not. It can be as inviting as a warm summer breeze, gently caressing your lips as it drains your life. It dwells in us, and lives off us. Everything you love means nothing when it hits, but that is all in fair game. You are the only one who can surpass all of the trials and tribulations that tragedy throws at you. When you finally achieve your escape, you will grasp appreciation. If not, you will experience hell as we know it.

Responsibility - You don't have it.

People piss me off. Seriously they really do. Sometimes I get so angry looking how people deal with their everyday problems, or trivial things in general and it ticks me right off. When I was a budding male, I was given a job at 13. I worked my ass off and hauled in the cash just so I could support my parents. I've gotten jobs for friends that don't even talk to me anymore. I've done favors for people just so I could have a clear conscience. And all of their responsibilities, have fallen on my shoulders. I'm no martyr, or saint. I'm nothing special in terms of legendary people ( yet). All I know is that I've done a fair share of work in my life and I'm only 23. I know many of you have worked their asses off and gotten to where they are now because of so, but there are people who abuse people like me to get everything. I've always been the guy to pay for things going out. Whether it be friends or a ball smoker girlfriend. That's just how I am and I don't think I'll change simply because it makes me happy. I don't give two shits about the value of money. I understand that I need it and I make it to spend on things I need or want. Other than that, whatever people may think, I could care less about it. I save my money and spent it however I please. Whenever I get the chance to support my family I will. I'm 23, still living with my parents and sister and I still help them whenever the chance. I've dated women who tried pulling me away from that because they want me to focus on my future. Bitch, I know my future, and don't tell me otherwise. I know what I want in life and to obtain it, I will have to suffer. That doesn't mean I'm going all selfish and cold. I put my family and friends close to me and their responsibilities are my own. Why else would I be called a friend?

♪ I want to do you in the butt. I want to do you in the butt. I like to hear you say what. I want to do you in the butt. ♪ That's the female ass folks.

I can't help it. I love butts. I'm an ass man. It drives me buck wild when I see the perfect derriere. I'm not a pig or animal, I just appreciate the physical awesomeness that our lord of the dance gave us. I think one of my coolest butt-related experiences was when I was out with a bunch of friends and we went to a nice little club, filled with hoochie mamas round and round. I hate clubs, but I was drunk before getting in so I didn't mind that much. As we jerked through the bunch of pansy ass 'bros' we split up and just went and did our own thing. I came across this tiny polish chick, with her annoying shit brown friend. As I tried to dance with her, pulling as many courteous moves as I could being drunk, her shit stain friend kept pestering her to dance with jumbo dick chin across from me. Seeing as I'm not the most attractive man alive, and he had a forehead of steel, she decided to dance with him. Before going however, she took my hand and let me grab her ass. She said, " You wish you could get this." She proceeded to go to the guy, and suddenly died of herpes as she touched him. The entire place blew up after we left and the entire area was infected with a deadly virus killing millions of polish people. I got my ass fill, she's getting raped by pineapples. Take that bitch.

Smegma - Usually known as dick cheese, butt cream, or the Rachel Ray.

So to continue from my last Holy Scripture, I was talking about that night with your girlfriend. Wait. No. Don't beat her I was kidding. Actually no, she's a whore. Really though, this is about my leap into culinary, and it updates as much as I mas......master my arts. I have a long road ahead of me, and I'm sure it's filled with trials and tribulations that only I can overcome. Almost like Link, when he has to get all that shit to save Zelda, only to appear in another game to save her bitch ass once more. Women, pfft. So sit back, lie down, bend over do whatever it is you do to read this and enjoy. If it helps your sex life, please send videos to chef_mallah@hotmail.com....for critique......yeah.

I always wanted to have sex with more than one woman at a time. If you think otherwise, you're a dirty liar and you know it.

So I quit my job. Finally. Good freaking riddance. They lost an important staff member over something extremely trivial, and are paying for it now. Oh well. Kinda funny how things played out this week. My last day was awesome. The coolest people just started coming and one of the owners was drunk off his ass and tipped each of us 50 bucks. If that wasn't enough, I got my Halo Reach Legendary Edition yesterday, which was 5 days sooner than expected with no additional cost. On top of that, one of the customers just came in the other day and told a co-worker than I can give my resume at his spot. Also, several others are willing to give me jobs. It feels nice to be wanted, really does.

Heart - The other white meat.

Oh look, a post about relationships. Mine out of all of them. Good grief. I felt the need to express my inner romantic because without him, my passion for food would be uneventful. Almost like having sex with a lumberjack. He'll just kill you and you know it. Now I do believe in certain things that must be a staple to find in a woman, and food is one of them. If she doesn't eat, she's not for me. I want to find someone who'll order quail when we go out, instead of the 'seafood' surprise. I'm not saying she has to be upper class or snobby, but goddammit she better be ready to try different things otherwise I'm going to shit on her chest with an array of flavors never heard of before. Women are confusing.

When life gives you lemons, use a laser gun and shoot the zombie in the fucking balls.

I freaking LOVE video games. It's the next step for me from cooking. My other half. If I could turn a video game into a delectable pastry, I would. Then I would induce vomiting and proceed to playing said video game. I think sometimes, when I lose all will to do anything else, I just pop in a VG and just go at it like a rabid horse. It's just as if I was reading a gripping novel, or violating a catholic nun. I didn't do the latter, but that got your attention didn't it? You sick bastards. As I usually say, I need to cook. It's my life and passion, my getaway, my mecca. Video games are like my mistress. When I feel bored of cooking ( yeah it happens to all of us, don't gasp), I simply turn my TV on and shoot me some Nazis. Nothing feels better than looking at Hitler in a Robotic suit, and blasting his sinful ass straight down to video game hell.

Quit it. No really. Stop. Okay fine but not there, I just shaved.

Bitches and hoes, my father always said. Actually he never said anything of the sort, and if he read this I would probably be eating my food with a straw. I actually brought you here to tell you some more about my culinary influences when I was a child. And my very first blo-never mind. As I said in my previous post, I loved being around my mom in the kitchen. It was an aura I felt like no other. Something holy and otherworldly that made me feel like there was magic in this world. She continued to teach me that without love, food would taste terrible. It would just be food and you would eat it for survival only. I mean, I'm sure cavemen had kick ass times killing dinosaurs for food, but that was in the 1900's. We live in the 40th century now, with flying cars and talking horses.

The day I shat bricks.

A wise man once told me, "Don't touch that." He was referring to my penis, and I was furious and outraged with the containment I had to endure. I was 8 years old, a budding male soon to experience something outlandish to my normal daily routine. Did you just say poutine? Anyways. I was helping my momma in the kitchen and we were preparing ourselves for a busy get together. Family coming over and the sort. I was ecstatic, except for my cheeks, which were about to face the dreaded pinch and grab. My mother however, maintained her cool and just kept handling food like it was her bitch.