To Everyone From Last Night...

Dear Everyone Last Night,

I am not sorry for anything I may have said or done.  It was hilarious.  If you can't see that, take the cock out of your ass and learn to giggle a little bit.  Michael Jackson giggled every time he touched a little boy so you can giggle when I go into asshole mode. 

Guess I am not allowed at that bar again.

List O' Shit

No big intro or funny explanation to this one.  This is just a List O' Shit that I must do.  Ok, maybe there will be some explanations involved...

1. Interview a transvestite.  Hey, everyone wants to know what the fuck is wrong with them.
2. Pay a hooker to fuck a homeless guy.  Smelly people need loving too.
3. Punch a chick in the butt hole.  I feel that it would hurt more than anal.
4. Greet president Obama by saying "Word dog!"
5. Make a hippie cry while she is having sex with me.  All I will need to do is put a plastic bottle in the trash.
6. Leave many burgers in an open convertible and watch the bird shit begin.
7. Ask where the fitting room is at Wal-Mart holding only a box of Magnum Condoms.
8. Return said condoms Wal-Mart because they were the wrong size. 
9. Take a bath in Jello with a midget.  Hey, everyone has to think that would be cool!
10. Get a pet monkey and penguin.  They can be friends and fuck with my guests.
11. Become the mayor of a small community and piss off at least 75% of the residents.  The other 25% are my fans and will love my antics.
12. Become friends with a celebrity and ruin said friendship by fucking his/her mother or sister.  Better yet, by fucking his mother AND sister...AT THE SAME TIME!
13. Try out for porn, again, but actually be able to meet qualifications.  Who knew that fucking in front of 10 people would be so hard, or in my case, not.
14. Do stand up comedy.  Nothing funny here.  I guess that is why I will fail at it and not care.
15. Give a girl an orgasm.  Hey, we can all dream, can't we?
16. Work at a carnival as the guy that guesses someones weight.  Many girls will have SEVERELY reduced self-esteem by the end of that day!
17. Go on the Jason Ellis Show.  I have a feeling I would fit in well there.  Sick bastards think alike!
18. Learn to fart on command.  That would be a great conversation starter at a bar.  "Hey baby, I can fart on command.  Wanna fuck?"
19. Figure out how to fix the hole in our atmosphere and not tell anyone.  COME ON SOLAR FLARES!
20. Empty my bladder into a fish tank while saying "DUDE, THERE IS NOT ENOUGH SALT IN HERE!  I WILL FIX IT SO YOUR FISH DON'T DIE!"

I think that will do just fine.  Hmm, I wonder how many of these will get me in trouble.  Only one way to find out!!!

Online Dating Profile

After getting bored and surfing the internet to the very end of its existence, which by the way is a video of my mom performing fellatio on President Obama while he gives a thumbs up to a picture of Bill Clinton, I decided to check out some online dating profiles.  Let me tell you, these things are FUCKING HORRIBLE.

Don't believe me?  Take a look for yourself.  The name has been left out to protect the underfucked.


Male -25 - Single

I am never good at talking about myself in these little white boxes.  I guess I will start off by saying that I am not your average guy and am not here to use you.  If you are looking for the bad boy, a-hole or anything else like that, please do not look towards me.

I like going for long walks, being outside, hanging out with friends and family and working on improving my 10k time in preparation for a large marathon coming up. 

If you are looking for a guy that will treat you right then look no further.  I look forward to hearing from you.


WOW IS THIS GUY A TOOL!  Let's dissect this profile shall we?  In the first line, the guy says he is not good at talking about himself.  This douche has no confidence what so ever and deserves his lonely nights full of masturbation. 

Line 2, not the average guy, not an a-hole, not a bad boy...  Yea, right, ok, SHUT THE FUCK UP.  I can guarantee that this guy is just the average guy and an asshole JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER GUY OUT THERE.  Want proof?  Ok.  One, he didn't have the balls to spell out ASSHOLE so he is kind of right, he is not the average guy, he is the UNDERAVERAGE guy.  Next, HE WILL FALL BACK INTO THE REALM OF AVERAGE GUY.  How can I predict this.  EASY.  Let's say this fellow is in a relationship for 2 years and then all of the sudden his girlfriend says "We are never having sex again."  You know what, that relationship will end.  Every guy is shallow, and if you say that, you are just another random asshole.  Trust me, I know, I AM ONE!

Long walks, going outside, hanging out, running 10k's.  This guy is trying WAY too hard to sell himself.  Doesn't he know how much of a dickpuke he looks like?  Looking for a guy that will treat you right?  WOW.  I believe I need to pose as a girl, get him to meet me, AND STEAL HIS GUY CARD! 

I am going to write my online dating profile here for you all to see.  This is the kind of honesty that EVERY guy should have.


Ajax Adams - 27 - Male

Hello everyone.  This is your friendly neighborhood Ajax here and I am looking to get a little lovin' from you.  Still reading?  Congratulations, you pass the slut test and can continue evaluating if I want you or not.

I honestly love talking about myself and could do it all night long, but detailing my every detail to people that I only want to use for sex really doesn't interest me.  Below are the basics that you will need to know.

First, I will not date you.  I will only seek your assistance in completing sexual acts and possibly accompanying me places when I need eye candy.  If an eye candy visit is requested of you then you will not be allowed to speak unless spoken to and if you say something stupid, you will be promptly asked to excuse yourself while I play recon for your ignorance.

Next, during our sexual acts, I do not care about your needs.  This is about me receiving an orgasm and then going to sleep.  I will not cuddle, talk or entertain you once I got mine.  Hey, a man has his needs and mine are ejaculation and sleep.  Respect some boundaries biotch.

Not a fan of anal?  Do not even think about emailing me.  *NOTE* If you cause me to get "poopdick" you will be required to lick off the residue.  It is YOUR JOB to make sure the back door is clean and I should NOT have to inspect before sneaking in my mini garden hose.

There will be multiple girls sleeping with me at any given time.  If you do not like this, do not talk to me.  You are not good enough to tame me and not worth my time to explain this again.  If you ask to date me at any time I will force you to cry and make you leave.

Still interested?  Congratulations, you are a slut and you are welcome in my bed at any time.  Bring a friend as long as she is a girl.



There, now isn't telling the truth and being yourself much better than being fake?  Girls, if you are reading feel free to apply to my ad by contacting @AjaxAdams on Twitter.  My leftovers will be given to @JamesWaterville.  Hey, his dick won't suck itself!

Running train...

Here is a fun little number that happened back in 2004.  My roommate, James Waterville (@JamesWaterville on Twitter) was bored with Northern NY and had decided that he wanted to check out Albany and the surrounding areas.  I was more than happy to comply as when you put us together, well, all hell breaks loose.  Not only did I ensure him that the Albany area would be a fun place to live, but I ensured him that he would get laid within the first night.

Being a man of my word, the night Mr. Waterville moves to Amsterdam, or as we lovingly refer to it Amsterico due to the 50% of the population that speaks only Spanish, I organize a gathering at my place.  This gathering is supposed to consist of a few girls and some other friends from the area.  The plan was to create a night that would make Charlie Sheen cry tears of joy for making his acts look like that of a little girl.

The plan had good intent, but most of the others had decided that they either had something better to do, or they were being responsible and going to bed since they had work the next day.  The way I see it, they are pussies and have lost their ability to speak around me unless given permission. 

There was at least one saving grace.  This saving grace was Trish, and yes the name has been changed to protect the whorish.  Trish was a fuck buddy of mine that had no issue sending naked pictures at random times just to get an excuse to come over and fuck.  This is one that I am more than happy to have over, but what of James, how will he get laid if I steal the whole party?

So we are all sitting around drinking heavily and Trish decides that it is a good idea to finish an entire bottle of Malibu herself.  Normal drinkers can easily do this, but she is a lightweight and this hit her harder than Mike Tyson delivering a KO punch to a $10,000 hooker.  Within 10 minutes of the bottle being finished, Trish is dragging me into the bedroom to fuck as I instruct James to play some guitar if he wants to drown out our sounds.

One thing leads to another and we are fucking to the tune of James Waterville creating some funky guitar beats from the living room.  At this point I realize I AM ALL THAT IS MAN.  I am fucking a girl that is an easy 8 AND getting a soundtrack for it.

After some time goes by I figured it was time for me to release my seed.  I do so and in glorious fashion.  It is this point where I lose all interest in her because, fuck, I'm done.  We leave the position we are in and I look at her only to say "I promised James that he would get laid on his first night here and it hasn't happened yet.  You should go fuck him so I keep my promise."  What can I say, I am not a shitty friend and like to keep my word. 

As soon as I put on my boxers and a t-shirt she is up and walking to the living room with me, only she is completely naked.  The look on James' face as she took him by the hand and took him into my room to defile him, PRICELESS!

As I hear the fucking begin, I realize that I must return the favor that James gave me.  It was time to pick up a guitar and play some music.  But this was not just any music.  You see, I have a Cry Baby Wah pedal that when mixed with a clean tone with a little reverb creates the perfect porn music.  For those of you that don't know what that is, you are fucking lying.  To recreate it via text I can only think it would look like this.  Wak a tick a wak a tick a.  Now you get the picture.

After I do this for a while, I begin to play Megadeth, the reason for this being funny will be revealed in a future blog regarding my sex life.  But soon after I play some Megadeth I realize that I am bored and I want some food.  As I put down the guitar and start to walk to the kitchen I decide to check things out in my room.  I walk in only to see James pumping vigorously inside Trish as she grabs my hand trying to get my dick in her mouth area.  I look at her and say "Nah, he's got this under control.", and leave.  After all, I already got mine and I like threesomes as much as the next guy, but only the cool ones, not the gay kind.

I head to the kitchen and start to boil some water for the best food I could make in 5 minutes or less, instant mashed potatoes.  As the water starts to boil I walk back to the living room and see James emerging from the bedroom, victorious to say the least, and smiling at his accomplishment, even though he went second.

Not 30 seconds after James comes out, I see Trish crawl from my bedroom to the bathroom, naked, as fast as she can, making it just in time to the toilet to unleash a violent Malibu puke that I can only imagine made Linda Blair's puke from The Exorcist look like a dribble of baby spit-up.  That's right, James and I pounded it to a girl until she puked.  Sure, you may say she puked from the alcohol, but I say fuck you.  It is my experience and I will think what I want of our ability to make people puke up the days contents from some deep dickin'.

So as James sits there on the couch and I cook potatoes I look at him and say "How was it?", with a smirk. 

Our dialogue following the smirk is as follows.

Me - "How was it?"

James - "Dude, she was fucking awesome.  I tried to finger her and go down on her but she wouldn't let me.  She just wanted me to go right into fucking her.  She was already soaking wet so I didn't even need to get her worked up."

Me - "Did you use a condom?"

James - "No.  She told me I didn't need to."

Me - *SINISTER GIGGLE*

James - "What?"

Me - "Where did she tell you to blow your load?"

James - "That's the best part.  She said I could blow it inside of........  WHAT THE FUCK?!?"

Me - *LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY*  "How did my sperm feel?  Did they bite your dick?  Well, there you have it, my load is better lube than vag juice."

James - *Shaking his head and looking down in shame*

That's right folks, this girl was not able to get pregnant, or so she said, NEVER TRUST THAT BECAUSE IT WAS A LIE.  At least we didn't knock her up because that would be a Maurie show waiting to happen!

What should I have done?  Let James get it on with her and go without?  Let James go first and take my chances of getting his spunk to run up a condom and get on my shit?  Warn James of what happened before he goes in?  Wrap it up as a courtesy to James?  Fuck no!  All I guaranteed was that he would get laid on the first night.  At no time did I ever say what the circumstances would be.  And the way I see it, if she didn't make him wrap it and told him to blow it inside her, it is has fault for not knowing that my dick butter was in her slop hole waiting for him.  Gee, I hope I didn't get James pregnant...

Do you smell what the Ajax is cookin'?

As noted before, I am a fan of just one sport.  That sport just so happens to be be "sports entertainment" and is known world wide as one of the most entertaining things on television.  No, I am not talking about Jersey Shore, I am talking about WWE.

Just as every football fan waits the entire year for the Superbowl, wrestling fans wait for Wrestlemania, which never seems to disappoint.  With things like the Undertaker and his undefeated Wrestlemania streak and Snooki fighting in the ring, yes I mentioned Jersey Shore for a reason, you just can't avoid a spectacle of this magnitude.

Thinking back to all of my greatest wrestling moments, I can really revolve it around one thing.  That is the day that I was a professional wrestler when I was but 18 years old.  Sit with me here on my throne of porcelain where my best memories come to mind and hear of this glorious event.

Growing up in the redneck land that is Northern NY, I would watch professional wrestling as a child and stare in marvel as Sgt. Slaughter took fireworks to the face, or as Macho Man Randy Savage got bit by a cobra and lived, or as Papa Shango put a curse on the Ultimate Warrior causing him to violently vomit on his way out on a stretcher and wonder, how do I get these abilities so I can be the ultimate bad ass that is a professional wrestler.

As I sit and watch this, the only other person that shares the same opinion as me, which is IT'S ALL REAL, is my late Great Grandmother, who would shutter in fear after every blow taken to the skull of these super men are taken only for them to pop back up and use their fucktard strength to come back and steal the show.

One second, I smell what I am cooking and it needs a courtesy flush...  MUCH BETTER!!!

It wouldn't be until years later when a documentary came out on TV showing how all of the wrestling stunts were done and informing everyone that the only thing that was real was the blood as the wrestlers would use a razor blade that was in their arm band or given to them by the ref to blade a portion of their head that has little feeling, lots of blood, and fast healing with little to no scar left over.  Needless to say, this crushed and helped me at the same time.

If it is all fake, I CAN DO IT!  I can be that super hero that everyone loves only to become one of the most hated people in the WWE because even as a child I understood the most hated people get the most attention, and I am the ultimate attention whore.

Throughout adolescence I would practice taking chair shots, putting people in holds, getting bashed with aluminum trash cans and cookie sheets, and loved every second of it.  It wouldn't be until I was 18 when I would know the true meaning of being a "pro".

A mutual friend and drinking buddy had purchased an official WWE wrestling ring and had it placed in his back yard for backyard wrestling shows that became pretty popular in the area.  It was then that I knew, I HAD TO BE A PART OF THIS! 

I got in touch with a friend and wrestler in this organization by the name of Draven, and it was done.  I was officially in the promotion and would be the bad guy.  Just what I had always wanted.  I was on the fast track to WWE and NO ONE WAS GOING TO STOP ME.

Now let me say, at this point in my life I had only been in 2 fights.  One of which was a brutal beating that I delivered with no injury what so ever.  The second, I took a shot to the face and head only to go completely bat shit coming back with a swing taking my opponent to the ground and endlessly punching his cheek bones making both eyes black, causing a couple of cuts and being pulled off by his father who chose not to press any charges because he saw his son start the confrontation.  Not only did I get away without charges, but I got an apology from the father and son for the behaviors that day!

If I can be this awesome in real life, I WILL RULE THE RING!  I get in and am instructed to bounce off of the ropes and get a feel for the ring as I have never done this before.  Let me tell you, seeing me do this must have been like watching a drunk giraffe run around after being hit by a tranquilizer dart.  I was the opposite of grace and quickly realized that I would have to rely on strength and blows to maintain attention.

Now is the time to teach me how to pull punches.  The first shot I take at Draven didn't even come close to hitting him.  It was a severe joke and work was needed.  I try again and BAM, hit him right in the forehead.  It felt like my fist just lightly tapped him but he went flying back and landed right on the mat from the power that is Ajax!  Thinking I had hit him I ran over to see if he was ok, only to be grabbed by the arm and flopped onto the mat.  Not only did I throw the perfect punch, but he had the perfect sell to go along with it.  That's right, I WILL BE A STAR!!!

We get back up and Draven informs me that since I am a natural at throwing a punch, I now have to stomp my feet to get more sound effects to go with the hits.  I practice this for 5 minutes and realize that I look like a child with down syndrome trying to dance to the Hustle.  It is comical to say the least.  Oh well, on to taking punches and selling it.

Draven is a pro at delivering the punches and almost hitting me making it look real, but I am not a master at taking them.  Every time I fall to the mat it hurts more and more.  I sit here and wonder why the pain is coming.  This shit is fake.  It shouldn't hurt!!!  But it does!!!

After multiple falls, it is time for me to learn how to sell being chopped in the chest in the corner.  My shirt is off, I'm in the corner of the ring, and Draven delivers a home run chest slap that can me heard for what seems like a mile!  I make the patented "AAH" noise while holding my chest and wincing in pain as he pushes me up and back into the corner to do it 4 more times!  Now this "AAH" and pain look on my face, well, IT WAS PERFECT!!!  Why was it perfect?  Because it hurt like a motherfucker!!!  THE DOCUMENTARY HAS LIED!  THIS SHIT HURTS!!!

We now decide that I have taken enough abuse there so it is time to learn how to sell a hold.  One more "punch to the face" and a leg drop delivered to me after being sent to the mat lines me up for a lion tamer.  My favorite wrestler at the time, Chris Jericho, will take the form of Draven and place me in the most feared torturous move EVER!  He grabs my legs, flips me over, and SINKS IT IN HARD.  Not only do I sell it better than any other move, but it hurts just like the other ones as my neck and back is bent in ways that are not humanly possible.  After about 60 seconds of selling the hold, because it hurts like fuck, He releases me only for me to flip over and roll out of the ring.

 When I reach the outside I spot Dan wearing his official WWE European Championship belt.  I run over and deliver a punch to his face, delivering perfect so I do not actually make contact, grab his belt, put it on, get back in the ring, celebrate my championship victory, and immediately announce my retirement from the business.  What did you expect, IT FUCKING HURT!  Fuck that shit, I will stick to watching it on TV and continue entertaining people in less painful methods.

On a side note, I am the greatest professional wrestler ever.  After all, who else do you know that has started a career in professional wrestling, gotten the European Championship, and retired ALL IN THE SAME AFTERNOON!!!  That's right, I am Ajax Adams, and I am the greatest at anything that is put in front of me!!!  IF YA SMELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL LA LA LA LA LAOU, WHAT THE AJAX, JUST COOKED IN THE BATHROOM!!!

Mouthwash

This post may be full of typos as I am way too intoxicated to make a blog at this moment, however, my main purpose is to inform you that DRUNK COLLEGE SLUTS SUCK!!!

So let's start at the beginning.  POWER IS AMAZING!!!  You go out and drink with some mildly ok slut with a couple of extra pounds that is doable but just being used as a wing woman to get another girl.  This girl just so happens to be a person that used to report to you in your place of work.  All goes well, drinks are in the belly hole, and then, BAM, she has to leave because there is work in the morning.

To most people you are saying "Damn, you didn't even stick your dick inside of her?"  To that, the answer is no.  That is tomorrow night if it is a last resort.  Tonight I let her leave because I saw the drunk slut in the corner with her sea cow friends staring at me.  This girl is hot, young (22ish) and ready to take all 1.23 inches of the man love that Ajax has to offer. 

She leaves her friends, we get a taxi, which is not so easy as a police officer had to direct us there, and we head back to my home front.  I knew something would go wrong as we were driving.  Not one minute into the 15 minute cab ride I hear the words "We need to pull over so I can fucking smoke!"  The cab driver, straight off the boat from South Africa, says "Is ok, I smoke too." and cracks some windows.  She and the cab driver proceed to light up as I sit in the back and contemplate what I will do to this poor unsuspecting girls ass when we get back to my place.  I swear her shit will come out easier than a taco bell fart when I am done with her.

We get back and the girl says she needs to smoke, YET AGAIN.  I inform her she can go to the balcony.  She walks out my sliding glass door and face plants directly into the screen, knocking it out of its place and almost over the railing and onto the ground.  Normally this would piss me off, but she has a pussy and I want my cock inside of it, so all is well.  I let her smoke as I place the screen next to the entrance to my apartment so my roommate can see it when he returns, and take the girl into my bedroom.

We strip from the kitchen to my room as things get hot and heavy and we make out all the way to my room.  As the clothes are flying all over, she says the one thing that every man wants to hear.  That is "I want you inside of me."  As we get to my room, I stick my pointer and middle finger into this girls very stiff and moist vagina.  She seems to be having a GREAT time.  She is moaning and begging for more as she grabs my tiny yet hard penis.

As we take each others pants off all the way she moves in to make out with me again.  As we are kissing, I feel something that I have never felt before.  This girl sticks her perfect tongue in my mouth and begins to massage my tongue with hers.  This happens quite often, but this time it was different.  Different because there was something extra.  As we vigorously make out, I feel it.  The warm, juicy, wet and disgusting feeling of vomit in my mouth.  This would be ok, however, this vomit is NOT mine. 

Yes, this attractive slut has forcefully placed the contents of her upper esophagus into my mouth.  I immediately run to my sink in the bathroom to rinse out my mouth as she follows and runs to the toilet to place the rest of the contents of her stomach in the sewer with the alligators and mutants that dwell below. 

At this point I am utterly disgusted.  Not only do I resort to taking advantage of a stupid and drunk slut, but I get the ultimate punk and have her puke in my fucking mouth.  Damn you Ahston Kutcher!!!

What do I do?  Do I console her and tell her it is ok and she needs to go and sleep?  Do I let her finish puking and fuck her anyways.  Do I just go to sleep and hope for the best?  No.  I tell her to get the fuck out when she is done and write this shit down for all of your enjoyment.

Well, I guess this is the last time I hit on the drunkest girls in the bar for some easy pussy.  Wait, what am I saying?  I will do the same fucking thing tomorrow but be sure that the slutty wonder is JUST sober enough to hold her stomach acid in her throat while I penetrate her vigorously for the first AND LAST time that she will ever see me.

*SIDE NOTE*  I watched very close as I typed this message to ensure that no unintentional red or green lines were under my words, indicating spelling or grammar errors.  I guess Firefox placing correction indicators under my random babbles really does have a purpose after all!

Dear Blog

I will start off by saying welcome to my blog.  If you are expecting deep and intricate theories on life, well being, health, society or a number of other topics, LEAVE NOW!  If you are expecting to read material that makes you say "What the fuck is wrong with this guy?  Does he really socialize with people?", then you are in the right place.

The first thing I have on my mind is this.  I have never been into sports.  From the age of roughly 3, I was raised by my Mother and had a very strong relationship with her, my Aunt and my Grandmother.  Don't get me wrong, my Grandfather is great and I maintain the highest level of respect and admiration for him, but let's face it, he worked a lot when I was around the other females in my family so fuck it, I am part woman. 

Now being part woman does not mean that I love the penis.  Not at all, well, unless it is mine.  In that case I will love the fuck out of it every chance I get.  Spurting in the movie theater, car, Taco Bell, 7-11 and midget strip clubs are awesome no matter who you are!  Being part woman means that I do not like some of the normal guy stuff.  Sports, building shit, arm wrestling, playing "my dick is bigger than yours", yea, I don't give two shits about that.

Now I know what you are saying.  "What gay shit are you into?"  The answer.  Nothing.  Unless you count professional wrestling as gay, but I just think of it as a male soap opera.  Instead I have gained a fascination for being the center of attention, which is VERY womanesque if you ask me!

One thing in particular that I developed a hatred for was the dreaded diary!  If you are a female and you are reading this, you have had a diary.  If you disagree with this, you are a fucking liar and the doctor did the right thing by slapping the balls off of you when you were born.  Below details why I am against the diary!

I remember being about 11 years old and hearing my mother speak on the phone to one of her friends about having a diary on her computer.  Being that I was young and impressionable, especially around the people that I looked up to the most, I thought I needed to have said diary.  What do I do?  I create one and place it in my pillow case on my bed.  Right where your mother that makes your bed will never find it, right? 

No, no, no.  This is not the case.  One entry deep, ranting about something unintelligent or fucking stupid (what do you expect, I am only 11) my mother has found and read my sacred, personal diary that is for my eyes only as marked on the cover.  I have been betrayed by the person that I stole the idea from.  When she told me she read it I was devastated, and she could tell.

The next day I told one of my best friends about what happened.  This person, who to this day remains one of the best friends anyone could ask for, informed me that "Diaries are for girls!"  It was then that I realized "SHIT, I NEED TO RUN STUFF BY MY FRIENDS THAT I HEAR FROM MY MOM!"

Did I learn this lesson?  Nope.  Instead, 2 weeks later, I heard my mom talking about her tampon selection with a friend and decided that I was old enough to finally use one.  Let me tell you, when one of those little bastards balloons up in your rectum from sloppy taco shit, you wonder what the hell is so great about them!  I guess you could say that is the official day I started running some of my ideas by my friends before putting them into action. 

The way I see it is simple.  "Fuck it, I am still alive.  Must not have fucked up too much!"  Although I still feel as if I have toxic shock syndrome from the tampon.  After all, how else would I come up with half of the shit that comes out of my mouth.  That's right, it is either toxic shock syndrome or being delusional from the advanced stages of syphilis.  Note to self - Next time you use a tampon, cover it with a condom to prevent toxic shock syndrome.  I wonder if I should run that by a friend first?

Either way, from the day I was told "Diaries are for girls!" I vowed that I would never have one or my name isn't Ajax Adams.  Wait?  What?  A blog is just another form of a diary?  Well fuckballs!  There is no fucking way I am changing my name now!  It looks like I have just made myself a liar.  Oh well.  I guess it's time to go and pet the turtle on my neighbors balcony while watching Bea Arthur deep throat a polish sausage.