I'm Patrick.
The End.
Like, what? What does that mean? Okay, I'll tell you. Sit down. You're ready.
Alright, I basically just need to say that I don't even know who I am sometimes. But I like it. It's like I was given this freedom, to be whoever I want, and I'm allowed to just sit here and discover what I can do with this. With who I am. I'm allowed to use my imagination and create like, whatever I want. And it's gonna be good.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not sounding all conceited like, "Hey, I'm gonna be great!". But why not? I mean, why be here if you're not going to do something awesome? Do you really think that you were just placed on this earth to sit here and take up space? I mean, are you filler? Are you part of some sort of background while the real people are out doing what needs to be done? Are you seriously just part of their story? I mean, no. You're not. I mean, maybe you are. I don't know… But I know I'm not.
I'm gonna do stuff, I'm gonna do what I like, I'm gonna keep doing it, and as long as I feel confident in the fact that I'm doing the right thing and making the right decisions, then no one is going to stop me. What is it that you think about every day? Go do that. Go do it, go get it done, go be happy. Go fight ninjas in space and lay eggs.
What-ever.
And I'd just like to say that I thought about how much information is on the internet about me. I mean, I have a myspace, I have a facebook, and I have this blog. That lists my school, my major, what classes I'm taking, blah, blah, blah... everything. If you wanted to kill me, I guarantee that you could probably find a way to. You could find me, smack me in the head with a giant shovel, and I pretty much asked for it. But whatever.
I don't plan on that happening, it's just that I was thinking about how many people could have read up on me, and I'd never really know. Ya, know?
And I didn't go see Bruce Campbell the other day. If I haven't already told you, then you probably don't know that I came very close to finishing his plush. I mean, I don't like that word... Why do I say it? It's a stuffed animal.
But whatever you want to call it, it wasn't up to par. I could do so much better, the material was not what I had originally planned on. It was difficult to find the right fleshy tone in fleece and I didn't want his first impression of me to be this like, creepy tired boy with a scary frankensteinish doll. So I stopped and went back to school.
Yea, I mean… for only having started less than a week ago, it's awesome. I bought the material, I made the patterns, cut out everything, and sewed it. I just knew that if I had more time to do it, then it would have been better. I plan on buying white fleece from now on, and just dying it the appropriate color(s).
Bruce is cool and so too should be his stuffed animal. He was so friggin' hot in Brisco County Jr. and like, I didn't want to be just another person being all, "Can you sign my book?" *picks his nose and waves around a light saber with the other hand*
- db
And ps - Janelle, I know you said that It wasn't a big deal, but hitting momo's head on that grill on your back porch made me feel really awful. :(
I sware that I'll never pick up your freshly-bathed puppy, that fast, ever again. Too much coffee for me...
*sigh*
Maybe she needs a new chew toy?

(Bruce, minus a belt, hair, a watch, straps all over his chest, tears in his shirt, shoelaces, shotgun w/holster, and more detail on the chainsaw. (approx. 12 inches tall)