Milk's Favorite Cookie

Oreos. Millk's Favorite Cookie. It doesn't matter how you eat them; whether you twist off the cookie, scrap off the cream, and eat the cookies; if you dunk them in milk until they are soft and then eat them; or if you skip all intermediate steps and go for the jugular so to speak; they are such good treats. I think they just might be my very favorite store bought cookie.
There are many different types of oreos. The traditional oreo with chocolate cookies with vanilla cream, the golden oreo with vanilla cookies with vanilla cream or chocolate cream, double-stuff oreos with double the stuffing, mini oreos that are bite-sized, oreo cakesters that are made with cake, even strawberry milkshake oreos. Among all of these I still prefer the traditional oreo above all else.
I used to twist off the cookie and scrape the cream off but then I started eating them whole and I really liked them like that. Now I just dunk them in milk until they are soft and eat that. It kinda sucks when you drop the oreo in the milk and then you can't get it out. Over all I love me some oreos.

Why Did that Dag-On Chicken Cross the Dag-On Road?

Well, there are many theories as to why the chicken traversed across the street that day. Yet no one is quite certain what exactly the reason was. The prevailing theories are as follows:
1. He was on the Chick-Fil-A side.
2. He was a Frogger fanatic.
3. He was insane.
4. There were no cars coming.
5. To get to the other side.

Things that make me laugh

Here are a sample of things that make me laugh (in no particular order).
1. The many faces and sounds of Jacob Merimee.
2. The innumerable "that's what she said" jokes of Michael Scott (The Office).
3. All of the corny jokes of any Monty Python skit, ever.
4. Taking figures of speaches literally.
5. The many forms Nick Miller can contort his body into.
6. Any line from the movie Anchorman.
7. The constant back and forth pranks of Jim an Dwight on The Office.
8. Mr. Fuller.
9. Shaun Geobel's goofy voice.
10. My girlfriend's little sayings.

Reasonings for Doing Nothing

Well lets see, theres always
you're tired
it's your day off
you are always busy
you're stressd
you finally finished a big project
you just feel like relaxing
you need some peace and quiet
you are just in the mood
there's nothing better to do
you just had a great day
you just had a terrible day
you love someone
you hate someone
you are thinking
you are tired of thinking
why not.

Even a book is no judge, part 4

I had become used to this new owner's interest in me. He sat all day and read. He even missed meals just to discover more. But at last he had finally reached the last page, the last paragraph, the last sentence, and the last word. When he reached the last period he paused for a moment and carefully closed my cover. The air stood still as I awaited his next action. At this point I was used to being passed on or even tossed out and I was sure that this man would do no different. He ran his finger along my golden title once again and then he stood up and walked towards a trash can. He stopped at the can and looked down at me. I dared to look down in the filth that awaited me. I was shocked when I heard the crash of the wine bottle that had been in his pocket fall into the trash can. He then placed me in his pocket again and walked away from the trash can. That week he was hired and started saving money. He soon got an appartment. He carried me everyday to work in his pocket until one day he bought a book self. He placed me on the shelf. I was the only book on the shelf for a while. Eventually others came, but none received the attention that I had. Finally I had a owner who not only appreciated me but cherished me as well. Where I had amazed others I had impacted this man. In some ways being given away and then thrown away was the best things that ever happened to me.

Even a book is no judge, part 3

Once I emerged from the depths of the man's pocket I was greated by fresh air. I welcomed the refreshing morning air and looked around as the man gazed at my cover with wonder, feeling the gold letters on my leather cover. I saw the sun rising, the birds in the trees building nests, and the gruff face of the man starring in amazement at me. I creaked at him in protest as he opened me up. I wondered what he thought he could accomplish by this as he would never be privy to my secrets. He ran his finger across my title as he slowly read it. I was astonished that he was literate, I really was. He continued to the next page and read that. It took him a while but he was determined. He worked his way through me page by page finally finishing the first chapter. I still was repulsed by him but he was an improvement upon the last man to possess me as he actually held me as being of importance. I wasn't in a fine study of a magnificent house and then morning dew was beginning to wrinkle my pages but at least I was adorred again. I found some peace in this crude dwelling.

Even a book is no judge, part 2

I was placed on a new shelf. In a study with no windows. There was more dust than air in this room and the musk was so strong that it seemed to penetrate down to the ink on my pages. Fat fingers fumbled through my pages. This man read much too quickly, glancing over many key points in many ideas. He was a clumsy man. He dropped me multiple times and tore many of my pages as he would turn them in haste. I spent what seemed like a month in this prison, but because I had no windows I have no idea how long it really was. It had to be about a week. I was soon writen off as mediocre by this ogre of a man. He knew much fewer than he presented to others. He often offended where my former master wondered. He soon put me down for another volume, not even finishing all of my content. This was a very impatient man who didn't know what he was missing. He finally had enough of me and discarded me on the side of the road. I was truly grateful for my fate as I felt that nothing could compare to the torture that I had endured in that man' s presence. Later that night I was once again plucked from my resting place. My final resting place was desicrated by a man that smelled of liquer and seemed to very needing of cleansing. I cringed as he placed me in one of his grimy pockets and walked on into the fog.