D-Day '08

Goodness gracious!

I was on some website talking about how numbers and math can explain any kind of phenomenon, whether natural or man-made. First, it went on about the Great Pyramids and numbers aligning with the stars and galaxical shit. Then, there was some kind of numerical evidence that proves there's a secret society which controls the shelf-life of Twinkies. After reading, I mean, researching for endless hours at the library, I noticed today's date, and things began to make sense. Today's date, being the 6th day of the 6th month in the 8th year after 2000, can equate to the events of today. Since 6+6+8=20 and 20 equals a score, it can only mean that 6+6+8=score, which proves the whole theory of numbers equaling out to letters, explaining the very existence of today. I'd delve deeper into the subject, but the vast knowledge I may or may not possess will make one's brain hurt from information overloading. That, or the information might decrease one's intellectual capacity. Either way, my point is proven.

For years on end, I've been trying to figure out the correct way to fold my hands. Does my right thumb sit atop the mountain of man-fingers attached to my hand, or does my left thumb hold the title of king of the folded fists? This is the type of stuff that smart people should be trying to figure out. These silly doctors shouldn't be concentrating on cloning people, unless it's women with gazongaboobs holding my ice, cold beer for me while I pee. And these scientists need not work out the origins of mankind and existence, unless it involves naked women wearing beer-drenched, white t-shirts. Instead, they should be investing their funds, researching ways for me to finally get laid for the first time. And if their researching works, they should research again so that my getting laid doesn't stop. So, the question stands. Which is the best way to fold my hands?

After extensive research of important events of this D-Day, I would like to wish Ikea, Sweden, and their stunningly gorgeous, Swedish women a Happy National Day.

Sometimes, the lack of sense I make makes me feel a lot more smarter.