He turned around just as I took the pic, and his ninja wrath was fierce, but still the picture remains. I win. OSW lives on!!!

Viva la Omi.
Nano-Shurikens of Doom

Viva la Omi.








My first prom date (junior prom) was Lindsey. She looked hot and we rode in my friend's Mustang. Lindsey is a huge Beatles freak, and while we were outside snogging we missed the John Lennon song Imagine, which happened to be the theme for that prom. She was not happy.
My senior prom date was a blind date. Yep, totally. She and I had never met before, until I went to her house to pick her up and let her parents take pictures of us. My friend hooked us up, but we never spent the time to get to know each other, before the dance. We were lame, but we still had fun in an arranged marriage, sort of way.
Well, in college I was in a fraternity (Tau Kappa Epsilon in case you were curious) my first semester, so I had a bunch of roomies. But my first, official college apartment roommates were Kathy and Emily. Yeah, that's right bitches...I lived with two girls. And yes, there was some hanky involved with one of them. Ka-ching!
Jack Daniels....out of little shot bottles, purchased from a gas station during my senior spring break. The next day was also my first hangover.
When I was 14, I worked at a local movie theatre called The Glenwood. It was one of those movie theatres that had some class, and history. Back when people would get dressed up to go to the movies and watch propaganda ads about the war with the Nazis. It was a great first job, and I loved it.
1986 Pontiac Sunbird, purchased for me by my grandparents. It was silver, and had all the 80's trimmings..including a pair of deer sensors on the hood. That's right, I had deer sensors. They are these little devices that emit a high-pitched sound that deer can hear from far away...so they won't stand in the road as you drive by, and crash into you. My grandparents said it was for safety. My friends still make fun of me about it, to this day.
I don't remember how old I was...I think 9 or 10. It was my Aunt Bunny, whom I had never met before. I remember it was open-casket and I was too afraid to go up and see her, so I stayed in my seat and thought about death and probably Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
I was 9 years old, when my mom moved us from my home of Mesquite, Texas to Kansas City, Missouri. That year was a bad year for winter in the midwest, and we got hit by a blizzard 3 months after we moved in. I had never even SEEN snow before, and seeing a blizzard pretty much freaked me the hell out.
I have no idea. But I can tell you the name of my 3rd grade teacher: Mrs. Kennedy. She used to give us jellybeans, when we got an answer correct. It was kind of Pavlovian in design, but seemed to work on us.
Kansas City. It wasn't very exciting.
My buddy, Ray. We were young, and didn't do anything when we did sneak out...it was just the fact that we were outside, when we weren't supposed to be. That made it fun. But in reality, it was pretty boring.
My first Best Friend was Jason, in Texas. When I moved away we lost touch, and I have no idea what he's up to, or where he lives. I don't even remember his last name.
Didn't we already cover this? I lived in a fraternity house on campus at college.
My girlfriend, and then my mistress. Just kidding!! I call my mistress first.
Dammit. I hate recalling bad memories...the first time I was a groomsmen, was for my father's marriage to his 3rd wife. I was too young to drink, so I had to suffer the fools sober. Don't get me started on this topic.
I Wake up. This question is a little lame.
Aerosmith, 1996. We sat 3rd row, center. The seats were awesome, and the show kicked major ass. Yes, I didn't go to my first concert until I was 18....what of it?
My first piercing was my ears. My first tattoo was kanji on my right arm. Neither one of them directly contributed to me having sex.
Alyssa Milano, from Who's the Boss. And she's still hot today, bitches. Oh, and I've seen her naked before, too. In movies. Aw yea.
Wow, I can't belive I still remember this, but her name was Sky Purser and it was in 1st grade...she was a brunette and wicked cute. I think we shared crayons once, or something. Sky, if you're out there and you're reading this...I already have a mistress. It would never work between us.
Lame, lame question. I hate stuff like this. I'm not going to answer this..too many people I know read this blog. Instead, I'll just tell you that my first date was with a girl named Brooke and we'll leave it at that.

What about here?

Or here? Ninja are stealthy, don't forget.

Happy Office Supply Wednesday!
It has always been my personal belief, that people who eat things raw or semi-raw are completely out of their minds. I have never understood the appeal of taking a piece of meat that is still bloody, briefly putting fire to it...and then shoving it into your mouth. Why is this cool? How can this possibly be considered a culinary positive? It has always seemed to me, that the best way to eat meat is to season it with spices and herbs, cook it, and then eat it. As simple as this would appear to be, apparently there are people out there who believe that the best way to truly appreciate devouring the flesh of another living creature is to do it in the most primitive, primal way possible...tear it off the bone while the heart is still beating. Only then will you truly savor the life force of your prey, and enjoy you meal. I'm here to say, that I am not one of these people. I was raised in one of those crazy households that likes to cook the food, before we eat it. The only un-cooked food that is even remotely acceptable to me, is cookie dough. Other than that, you'd better stick it in the oven before I'll touch it. Raw meat is lame. So lame, it limps. It limps off your plate, then runs into the garden to heal and recuperate so it can come back and slap you upside the head, for trying to eat it without cooking it, first.
That being said, I went with some friends to a sushi restaurant this weekend. I allowed myself to be persuaded into trying raw fish, on the basis that it was a new experience and potentially happy situation.
It.
Was.
Not.
I fucking hated it. I tried two different pieces of sushi...spicy shrimp and a California roll. Both of them made me fear God. When I popped the first one into my mouth, I actually had a moment in which I debated whether or not to vomit on the table in front of everybody...or simply turn my head and aim for the plant in the corner. The only other time I felt such an overwhelming need for regurgitation was that time I watched Dr. Phil without being high on crystal meth.
I take pride in the fact that I not only chewed and swallowed the whole piece of sushi roll...but I even tried a second bite of another, just to be absolutely positive that I hated the shit out of it. After that crap was done and I had proved to myself and everybody around me that my nuts are of good size, I drank as much plum wine and water as I could to help wash the taste of sea cow out of my mouth.
The taste is still there, though. Yesterday I was having lunch and I could swear I tasted raw spicy shrimp in my hamburger. I'm not crazy...it was in there, I know it. Fucking chef bastards putting sushi into my cow patty.
So, I tried sushi. I hated sushi. I'm never eating sushi again.
That's right, kiddies! Today is Office Supply Wednesday, starring our favorite orange office ninja of small stature himself, Omi!
Sadly, Omi ran across a package of unmarked pills during his travels. I told him to throw them away; that they were unsafe for little ninjas. Omi didn't listen. Soon he was tripping worse than Barney on meth, and we all know how that turned out.

I spent all day yesterday watching over our little friend; making sure he didn't fall asleep in the copier, or accidentally swallow his sai. Luckily, he passed the day in a harmless psychedelic bliss which can only be described as groovy.

Afterwards, Omi learned the full negative effects of drugs, and he is wiser for it.

I wish they made mini-ninja aspirin...poor Omi.







