So I got my new computer yesterday. When I woke up this morning, that thing had made me an All-American breakfast with a side-order of biscuits. The eggs were a little salty, but otherwise it was a good meal.

Thursday in gym, we had to run the mile, and I was all, “Hey, what’s up with this?” The thing I don’t like about running is that the faster you run, the more like shit you feel like afterward. I think feeling like shit is your body’s way of telling you, “Hey, dumbass! Don’t run so fast!” I mean, we really don’t need to run anymore. That’s why they invented hoverboards.

Dang, I’m surprised at the percentage of people who voted for “magenta” as their favorite color. You kids sure like your magenta.

OK, here’s how retarded bees are: they kill themselves just to piss you off. Think about it. . . . If you were a bee, would you commit suicide simply to sting somebody? I mean, all it would do is give them a momentary feeling of discomfort. Meanwhile, you, the bee, would die slowly and painfully. You know, if I was a bee, I think I’d just scare people a little, like by going in their hair, or landing on their arm. Just to teach them not to go near me when I’m pollinating a flower. Hey, I need my privacy.

Now I don’t mean to come off so “anti-bee” here, but it’s just that I’ve been stung one too many times. Bees can be alright, when they’re chillin’ in their hives and making me a jar of honey. But when they go into your car and sting you? I’m sorry, that’s not cool.

I hope everyone’s having a nice spring break. I know I am. It’s not like I’m bored or anything. Why would I be bored? Dang, quit accusing me of being bored. ‘Cause I’m not. On an unrelated topic, I will now make a pyramid out of dashes:

In conclusion, I like pancakes.

Well, it’s Easter weekend. Allow me to offer a little advice: Before you sit down, make sure nobody hid an egg in your pants. Trust me, a little “egg in the pants” gag can turn into a serious situation if you’re not careful.

Hmm . . . it seems the trend these days is to change up the appearance of one’s webpage. Perhaps I, too, should change the design of mine. That would be bogus.