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Just to let you know, my stories are not really about creepy chiropracters and massages with happy endings, but instead, probably much much worse. I want to tell you all about the time with my cousin and the urinal, and my past experiences with Barbie dolls, but you must understand that the consequences and my reputation would be severely horrid and would make my life a little less worth it, but seeing as how i am not depresseed and i am not a psychopath, i will just tell you a bunch of stories about a bunch of stuff that never really happened in reality. Or maybe it did.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Deans. He really wanted some friends, but he was way too small to play football, and way too big to play touch tackle with the kindergardeners. Anyways, the entire adventure began one day over a nice hot cup of liquid nitrogen. Deans took a sip of the tasty brew and picked up his tongue off of the floor.
He was thinking about how lonely he was, when suddenly, it burst upon him like a box of stale mouse-infested Cheetohs. If he couldn't find a friend in the world, he would just have to ma- (*I'm sorry, your time is up. Please insert a quarter to continue the story... I am sorry, your quarter was Canadian, please try again... Hey, who the heck do you think you are?? We don't take Pesos!! No story for you!!*) The End. biggrin