Today's my birthday. I'm nineteen. Happy birthday to meee!

Man. So much drama. Drama at work, drama at home, drama drama drama. Somebody's roommate let slip somebody's boyfriend is doing something with someone or something and all of a sudden there are giant flaming balls of shit flying across the landscape at a hundred miles per hour. There's a break-in or a break-up or a break-down or a break-fast and suddenly the world is on fire and the only way to put it out to piss all over everyone and everything.

Someone, please give me something to give a shit about! How in the hell do you spend your free time, anyway? I think I just need a find a good book to keep me busy. A new game would be nice.

My birthday's tomorrow, you know. I think...I'll clean my room tomorrow. That is, during the time I'm not working. Yes, I'll be at work tomorrow, but I mean that's life. We might eat lunch somewhere, or breakfast, or we might swallow a live badger. Who knows?

I used to pass the time by reading and writing and talking to people and playing games and watching movies. I mean, those were the things I enjoyed, the things I wanted to do. But what about now?

Well, Deadlock's twelve chapters, so far, and eighty-nine pages. We should be done in Hell after another three or four chapters, I think.

Anyway, I'm gonna go watch 1408, bitches.

Pieces.

Well, I just fired off another chapter of Deadlock. Ch. 11 - Blitzkrieg picks up--unsurprisingly--where Ch. 10 - Satan Is Not Amused left off, finding our heroes exiting the tower of Abaddon. It's back to business for Locke and co. No more fucking around in Abaddon; sins must be committed and gods must be slain, and let no man tell you otherwise!

I don't really feel like saying anything else except that in the movie In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale the character Miriella is sick motherfucking hot in that armor.

Goodnight.

So. I've not been on dA much at all. I'm sure you've noticed. Anyhow, I got back to work on Deadlock, putting out a sixth chapter. I'm considering dropping a teaser here on dA, but I think all the people who would read Deadlock are already on the mailing list for it. Anyway, lemme know you think of those ideas.

So, for those who don't know, Deadlock is about a boy (James Locke) who has to save the world from a god from another dimension invading and trying to take control of ours. Accompanied by his best friend Andrew, Locke uses the power of the seven deadly sins (or rather the demon representative of each sin) to fight the god and its minions on Hell and Earth. It's got lots comedy, action, drama, and even a little romance. And a lot of bad words.

Anyway, the newest chapter, Other People, entails some French guy and high level drama about deformed crackbabies. And for those of you who complained, I promise at some point I'll go back and better introduce the plot's main characters that didn't get enough development (or any at all, as the case may be), namely Tinman and Locke's parents and the two girls. I know I blew past them all, but I was eager to get to Hell. I mean--no, wait, that's exactly what I mean.

Anyway, like I said, if you're interested in joining the mailing list hit me up, or if you like the idea of a teaser let me know and I'll have my people talk to your people and we can discuss it over dinner or maybe just a light snack.


-----UPDATE-----UPDATE-----UPDATE-----UPDATE-----UPDATE-----

In the last week, Deadlock has DOUBLED in size. I'm not fucking kidding. Five became ten in six days. I'll send out chapters nine and ten in just a moment, seriously, but first I gotta get some raging plot developments under control. But anyhow, chapters six through ten find our heroes fighting demons, not invaders, so there's a level of personality to the enemy that wasn't present in earlier fight scenes. Locke and Ender eventually become...well, pretty much completely evil. I fucking love it. I mean, they aren't like, RAAAHHHH, ALL HAIL SATAN, sort of evil. In fact, Locke gets in a fight with Satan...look, whatever, just read the shit. I promise you'll like it.

Pieces,
--Bronson Parker

Woah. HUGE fucking update. Sorry it's so big, but needs must, when the Devil drives. (Fuck you, Simon R. Green. Fuck you and your catchy British quips.) And YES I meant to put "tirade" and not "tired". A tirade is a rant, often an angry one, at that. Not sure how many people still read this shit, but here goes.

Today's Papi's birthday. Or yesterday. It WAS yesterday when I STARTED typing, but not by the time I finished. Anyway, he's fifty-three. He got socks, pants, wind chimes, beer--and the Hellsing Ultimate Edition volume three. Yeah. He's an anime nut. Wait, I take that back. He's a dirty little pedo who likes fan service and little girls. XD Well, whatever blows your skirt up, I s'ose.

Mkay, so in other news, I have three papers due Friday. I'm going to bed now. Which means I'm doing them all tomorrow. ...fuck. Also I got Charlie laid. I was her accidental wingman. *shrugs* Helpin' out whatever way I can.

In other other news, I have a lot of smaller issues, like the fact that I have ONE course (HIST 222, for those who care) where vulgar language is profane. So they're aloud to offend ME by butchering the English language with that wannabe French scrawl that somehow passes as a dialect of both French AND English when all it really does is embarrass them both, right? Yet I'm not allowed to even say the word shit in class, for fear it may offend some uptight sexually repressed fat bitch? Fucking Professor Plauche didn't care when I used those words, only the preppy Cajun bitches--which (if one is educated enough to know) doesn't even make any fucking sense, that the bitches wear shit from Abercrombie or where-the-fuck-ever and go suck the entrails out of a dead thing covered in chitin. I mean come the fuck ON! Bitches freak out at a bug, then go suck the GUTS out of what is essentially a giant roach? Fucking hypocritical preppy Cajun bitches. I mean SHIT, I've had chocolate covered ants, but I wouldn't touch a crawfish if you fucking payed me! I mean, I'm allergic, which helps. XD But one bitch DARED say "me sha" to call me out. As in, "Me sha, you betta watch yo mout." It was fucking disgusting. Seriously.

Sorry, but that tirade was more than justified. Anyway, I had actually intended to go to my BIOL 201 today but I got so caught up playing N64 in the Honors Lounge... XD We played Mario Kart 64 and Super Smash Brothers (the original) and I was so into it that when I looked up to see how long I had to get to class...it was already over. Whoo! I'm good.

On a side note, Ducky insists I need to get a girlfriend. I tend to agree--as I attract them easily enough--but for my two primary vices when it comes to keeping them. Id est the fact that I'm all too often too busy for bitches and the fact that I'm so fucking terribly arrogant they often get tired of my bullshit. Heheheh. I guess they get turned off when I tell motherfuckers to bow before their lord the Red Kaizer. Heh. But I got fuckers payin' a tithe every time they see me. Bein' a god does have its advantages. Still, I think Ducky's right. Terrible luck, I'd say, that now all at once I've gone back to havin' like four bitches from having none like a month ago. Of course, the only one I REALLY want--well, her parents aren't exactly too keen on the idea of their little girl datin' a college boy. Humph. Wonder why. Shit, you'd think they thought she was a virgin or something. Hah! Haha! Yeah. Well.

So, singing Otep and (hed)PE and SlipKnoT at work is not exactly...smart. Screaming "All you bands can SUCK THESE FUCKING NUTS!" is far from the most intelligent thing I've done at my place of employment. Between Crooked Spoons, Get This, and Crazy Legs I was all rape and murder today. It was awesome.

I'm so tired, man, but I'm like. Not in the mood to sleep. Besides, I gotta say some shit before I'm out. And I just remembered the awesome thing I did today! This stoner dude owes me BIG TIME cause I'm clean and he's not and I pissed in a bottle so he could pass his piss test he had today since he's on parole for possession. Not only that, but I had no idea who the guy was. I was just talkin' to Shanna, and he started to talk to her, and he mentioned that and I was like, "Dude, I'm clean, and I gotta piss like a pregnant woman." So we bought a drink out of a machine, poured it out, and I pissed in it and he made his piss test. So I calls 'im Piss Test Matt. *shrugs* Not like I need any favours, though, so if I do call him on it, I've no idea what I'd do it for, unless I suddenly need to get my hands on a dime bag. ...wait, dude, stoner bitches is hot. I could use that as sway! ...psh, yeah right. Like I need a Romancer's Stone. Fuck that noise. Unless I made him buy me new computer speakers. They're pretty cheap, and mine died not too long ago. *shrugs* I doubt I'll call him on it, anyway. I did it because I'm an altruist, not in the hope of having a stoner in debt to me. Hah. It sounds sooo much less awesome when I tell though, seriously. I mean it was fuckin' awesome at the time. We were laughin' our asses off like, "I can't believe you're doin' this shit for me!" I was like, "It's gravy, man. This kinda shit's what I do." I mean, if he was Shanna's friend, he must cool. Not like the piss cost me anything.

OH OH OH!!! More great news! MCR canceled their tour in Mexico because a buncha emo kids (and the fucking newscaster on Planet Radio CALLED them emo kids!) got the shit beat out of them and the band got attacked. Fucking BEAUTIFUL! Astor, I dedicate that shit to you, son. Keep the emo beatdown rollin'.

Ahem. Back to important matters. I'm gettin' Astor's lappy like--what, tomorrow, Friday? Some shit like that. Which's great. It means I'll get to play Diablo II: Lord of Destruction in my fuckin' History class. WHOO! Can you fucking IMAGINE Lord of D instead of Hitler? The Paladin and the Druid instead of Churchill and Truman? A-bomb equals Fist of Heaven.

Where the hell's my cell phone. Damn. I meant to be in bed by now. Fuck. :/

And I realized how much you see of your exes in other people--especially people you may be interested in. All joking aside, nearly every worthwhile girl I can find seems to be one or another of my exes in a new shell, or else a mix of a couple. It's pretty bad, actually, when all the chicks you think are even REMOTELY worth the effort are practically this or that ex with a new haircut and a different name. I guess it's b'cause I'm so damn particular. *shrugs* I just don't see how they're worth the effort if they aren't fun, intelligent, open-minded, and affectionate. Unfortunately, that plus my sense in girls' fashion lands me with four choices--goth chicks, punks, whores, and lesbians. LOVE goth chicks. LOVE punk chicks. I even like the posers, to be honest. Whores? Dude. If they latch onto me that fast just think how fast they'll be on that Adonic football player in the Pound for Pound Club (where you can bench 5.5 times your own weight) with a 4.0 GPA, a house in Cracker Heaven (River Ranch, or its on-campus counterpart, Legacy Apartments), a nine inch dick as thick as a can of Red Bull, and four C a week. Well, I'll fucking tell you--less than a day. Voice of experience? You fuckin' bet! Anyway, the final suit--lesbians--well, I'd say that's obvious. I'm not exactly BUILT to be their type. Which sucks cause there was this SICK hot punk bitch comin' up when I was waitin' on my Creative Writing: Poetry class (ENGL 236, for what it's worth) to start, but my gaydar was off the charts on her. Anyway, she was outta my range. I shoot for fourteen to seventeen, not twenty to twenty-five. ...so why do I keep landing chicks in that demograph?! Whatever. All I wanted was a sick hot pedo chic high school freak. AND I FUCKING FOUND HER, vampyre fetish and all! And what happened to that, you ask? I GOT INTO COLLEGE. FUCK I wish I was back in high school, surrounded by underage bitches. Heheheheheh.....

Oh, dude. DO NOT EVER GO TO www.teenlib.com! I accidentally stumbled upon what I b'lieve may be a federal sting. I think it's underage with tracking cookies, so watch the fuck out if you hit this site! A proper proxy MAY be able to shake that level of bullshit, but I promise summin's up with this shit. I mean there's no way some of those bitches are eighteen. Some, it makes sense, cause they look like they could be those young lookin' bitches, but some you can just TELL shit's off. Anyhow, should you manage to find this shit DO NOT proceed, just go back before you A) incur the wrath of the government or B) become horribly disgusted by the sights of BARELY pubescent kids having sex in the forest. It was horrid. I mean, I'm a fucking pedo and that shit left me flaccid for the rest of the day. I mean pedo chic is one thing, but actually SEEING pedophilia IN ACTION is just somehow much worse than one could ever suspect... *shudders*

But yeah. Back on topics NOT pertaining to statutory rape and/or carnal knowledge of a minor...

My rap's not for emo kids. My flamethrower leave you bald head like chemo kids. I ain't a gangsta and a gentleman--I'm one of the two. Don't open doors for bitches so which one would you choose.

All you bands can SUCK THESE FUCKING NUTS!