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As a past member, The Anarcho Fascist Revolution of Fedele seeks to reactivate its membership in the Order of Gryphons.

Syd keeps waiting for a girl with a heart of wrought iron.

I think I had my tear ducts removed when I was 16.

I just took in too much information.

Say Goodbye by Chris Brown

The girls are all down on Syd.

T'was my nickname in Highschool when I played baseball. Syd makes me want to meet Nancy.

Interesting fact: Every early-to-mid-20s girl that has come to work for this company has been quite fond of me. I have resisted exploiting such persnality faults in the past despite compelling motivation. I'm not sure it will be so easy this time. As a side note, damn, she is really running up...

I just doodled another picture of DD. It makes me feel better if I call him DeeDee.

Story of a Girl by Nine Days

I just realized there is a 99.999% chance of me getting to know a rather attractive girl that I work with quite a bit more intimately. I haven't figured whether that is good or not. Can I avoid it? Probably not. Cruel fate.

I don't think I would hug a cactus, either.

Iggy hopes to someday enjoy the luxury and educational experience of Fedele.

Spiderman 3. It went from acceptably-corny to plainly stupid. If you are six years old, I recommend this movie for you.

I feel that my sentiments are best expressed with the following parable. There was once, or perhaps twice, a young man named Ragnoktic. For the sake of simplicity, we will focus on one such instanse in particular. In this instance, Ragnoktic was a young boy living in Fedele with nary a penny...

I just finished putting the Spacetime Continuum Theory to good use.

I am pretty sure Iggy thrives on no sleep. Boogie on, reggae woman.

I wrote a paper that began with the following sentence: "The greatest discovery of the 20th century was the clitoris." Life philosophy revealed.

She's a fire-y hot angel with a whip. What more can you ask for? Cheese cake.

Random thoughts? As in "Hey, Fed, what are you thinking right now?" I'm not Catholic because I can't bring myself to kneel to a woman.

Behind Blue Eyes by The Who

Inconsiderate bastard.

The Green Mile in My Pants

The Green Mile in My Pants

Kitty obviously wants to go clubbing.

Something's Got to Give in My Pants

Dogs and Cats in My Pants

Vrtbovska is like a white Samuel L. Jackson with hair.

I have a pretty good guess. I think it involves a pitcher of margarita mix, a four pound box of Klondike bars, a tub of butter, a small cat, and a cigarette. Anyway... I got my seat fixed. It doesn't squeek as much now.

I am happy with his life.