Caution

Everyone has flaws, its a proven fact. Yes, even Jesus. But unlike Jesus or Brad Pitt, I have many. I just recently came to terms with one of mine. I am overly cautious. I mean it, I'm too cautious. Sure its not a big deal, but I make it one. In many cases its good to be a bit cautious. I spaz. Never impulsive... most of the time. It can still be good though. Example A: I haven't died yet.

Speaking of being dead, I almost got hit by a green Sudan. I was going to my friends house and we had to cross Highway 60. Not my strong suit. Friend said "go" so I started a fast walk. He called my name to get me to stop and right as I'm turning to see what was going on, a green car zooms not ever a foot in front of me, I feel something more than a breeze stroke my arm as the side mirror passes me. Close call. the bastard didn't even slow down! Or honk.

Luckily, that was my only close encounter. But, hell, I stress bad. Once I left my iPod on the computer charging, and your not supposed to do it long because it kills battery life. Wake up. "Fuck!" *rips iPod away from the computer*, and probably sustained more damage and I freaked out. Terrible. Its all those little details that make me spaz, as if they are going to jump fro their hiding place and try to eat my face. It wants to nom on my soul! And that is where I start pacing. I'm a pacer. Can't sit still. Blah... I actually made a tread in the carpet surrounding the pool table.

Good news, with my over cautionary style, I'm going to be the last person in a horror movie to die. While everyone else; jocks, druggies, cheerleaders, and bitches (I know, those two are similar. But they are not the same, there is a distinction. Bitches don't need to be hot to succeed at what they do) die. I, the nerd, will live. After the creepy, pathetic excuse for a psycho deals away with everybody else in creepy, disgusting ways with underlying sexual innuendos. I will be hiding, too afraid to risk my life for sex in an old freaky shack. I will survive off the food the pizza man drops when the psycho kills him. A psycho needs to kill something, why not something that will be there in thirty minutes or less? Their life is most likely at a dead end anyways. As the years go by, I will grow a glorious, scraggly, grey beard and slowly go insane. Then in a few years when the next group of stereotypical teens come along I'll try to turn them away, while sufficiently scaring the women in the group (that includes the new nerd) about the psycho. And this is how I will live the rest of my life... wait... how is this in any way good? I lost where I was going with this.