b3ta.com user Floz Nietsnezolf
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I did this one just to "keep up with the times". Yes, it's Mohammed or however you're supposed to spell his name.
that's supposed to be a certain actress...

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Best answers to questions:

» My Arch-nemesis

It's my parking space.
My luck was as such that the apartments decided to assign parking spaces ON MY DAY OFF! Hurray! I get to pick my parking space because I show up early. I picked out the space right next to the stairs. Being a mechanic (and a proper one at that), I work hard. No sense in walking too far from the truck to the stairs.

Until one fateful night. I had been out for drinks with coworkers, and on the way home, decided to grab a bite to eat. Thank goodness for the snack I had, because I might not have been sober enough to avoid flattening your car. As I was sober enough to avoid crashing my truck and your car... I was not sober enough to avoid being a vigilante.

By the way, did you know that an air-rifle pellet under the cap on a tire will slowly let all of the pressure out? My nemesis does. His little hadjimobile made it nearly 30 meters on a flat before he stopped. Luck was in my favor again though, as I timed his flat tire to coincide with another day off!
(Fri 30th Apr 2010, 5:41, More)

» How clean is your house?

my bachelor pad in Texas
My roommate and I were both single guys who frequented the nearby beer importer. As you can imagine, after a weekend, a small mountain of empty glass would accumulate. We would routinely let this go for a month or more, then go break them on the spillway.

My roommate could not find an ashtray for his cigarette. Instead of going out on the balcony, or dropping it in the toilet, he grabbed a drinking glass.

Several months later, that drinking glass was nicknamed "Fungus Single-Guyus".

The worst thing was our couch, which I left behind when we both moved out. It had stains from various women we had brought home from bars, various cocktails and beers had been dumped on it, and at one point, I believe my roommate urinated himself whilst sleeping on it.

I really miss that place.

edit: almost forgot the morning I woke up to find a partially dismantled shopping cart (trolley?) in the living room.
(Sat 27th Mar 2010, 23:03, More)

» Famous people I hate

She thinks that because she does 'yoga' and talks with a bad fake accent that she's beautiful. When in truth, she's a worn out old hack.

Nevermind all the adopting of third world babies and other stupid things she does. That bint ruins my day just by existing.
(Tue 9th Feb 2010, 18:25, More)

» Books

i luff books
of all sorts. My most recent treasure find was "Machinists & Millwrights Guide", c. 1975. Either that, or "Hop On Pop". Not sure which is the more entertaining read.
(Tue 10th Jan 2012, 14:37, More)

» Letters they'll never read

I remember...
I'm one of those people who are blessed (or perhaps cursed) with remembering vividly the details of every sordid affair I've had. I remember when you worked with me at that store. I remember the sneaky glances, and when I'd catch you, you'd quickly look away shyly. I remember that you were seeing somebody, not that it stopped me. I remember fixing your car multiple times. I remember going to pick you up at unreasonable hours because the same car had failed... AGAIN.

I remember most of all the way you pushed me away when you discovered you were pregnant. Nine months passed, and I was not even considered as a part of the life of this new person. Nevermind that you, me, nor your boyfriend (maybe husband now?) know who the actual father of this beautiful little girl is. You will continue to lie, assuring your companion that she really is his daughter.

I may never know for sure if she is my daughter. That hurts more than knowing she is and being denied. At least in those circumstances I could justifiably be angry with you. The way things sit now, if I feel angry towards you, I feel like a fool, and that I should instead be angry with myself. I remember her name, even though I've never met her. Friends keep me updated, since you won't. She's adorable, smart, and quite honestly... looks like the product of our lust.

I remember that in about 16 years, when she's legally an adult, that I must find her, and offer the option to discover who her father is.

Finally, I remember that should she decline the opportunity, it's likely because her mother is a crazy, spoiled twunt.
(Fri 5th Mar 2010, 16:17, More)
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