Spring forth from my rib.

About one or two thirds worth of the holy trinities days ago I had a conversation with my roommate when I epiphanized all over my stomach, chest and a dribble on my chin.

We were watching television when the treehouse South Park episode came on. A vision struck me. I saw myself years down the line talking to mustache-jr and he wanted a treehouse. Me, being a cock wielding human knew I could build it myself without any help from professionals. Then about 20 seconds later my vision showed my son being crushed to death by my work.

This actually isn't a vision, it is how my first 4 born died.

Well, kind of. The third also died of not having a mustache. He was kind of a dick.

Bibliophilia

I'm going to start collecting books. Not so I can read them, but so when the inevitable book burning begins, I'll be damn sure to have the biggest fire on the block. This is what you get for sleeping with Mrs. Mustache-On-or-Off, Johanson. Your kids will think you are not a man when they check out the size of my raging pillar of fire.