9:57 PM: Where's my purple heart?

Indian Dancing is the shit. I went with some people tonight, and beat sticks in some abstract five step pattern, and even broke a sweat doing it. I also had a kickass time. Dancing with Indians is frustrating, yet so rewarding. They're c-r-a-z-y (pronounced craaaaaazy..imagine a black girl other than sodeke or abrokwa saying it, and you'll get the gyst).

It looked like this:

except less stereotypical, and with sticks. and a lot more people. actually, it looked nothing like that.

Also, I've stopped two felonius crimes in the last six days:

One, last tuesday, that I've mentioned before in this here blog, involving me stopping two redneck Opelika boys from stealing paintball guns, mask, and other paraphenelia totalling about $500. I won a K-mart outstanding citizen badge, and got a free sam's choice soda for my heroism. can you say w00t?

Today, I saw the most hilarious case of domestic abuse ever: some black guy was arguing with his girlfriend, and yelling, and making me laugh my ass off. Then, after arguing for a while, he starts to push her around and hit her. what do i do you ask? well, i tell mr. harvey about it, and he takes care of it. but i totally would have saved that girl if i had too...and i saved the girl from further harm by bringing to the attention of the administration.

I'm a fucking deity...give me shit now, for stopping crime. please.