Holy Crap It's Late. I'm Going to Bed.

Ving decides that even though it's way too late for himself to think coherently, it would be a wise decision to narrate himself making a blog entry. He sits silently for a moment considereing what to type, and then in a flash of brilliance dictates his thoughts and actions in what can only be described as a work of art. In a futil attempt to describe the sheer beauty of what he has written, he realizes that this action is futile. How can you describe the Mona Lisa? or the roof of the Cystelline Chapel. Ving begins to wonder if he spelled Cystelline right, or Chapel for that matter. Upon deciding that he has, in fact, misspelled it, he wonders if such a thing even exists.

Ving's train of thought is interrupted my an MSN message from his brother, Andy:

Andy says:
check it out

Ving wonders what exactly Andy is referring to as he types all this down in his blog. He then waits for a further explanation.....
.......
.......
.............................upon realizing that Andy does not think logically and probably has said everything that he had intended on saying, Ving attempt to further the conversation:

Ving says:
HAHAHAHAHAH, I'm narrating my life on my blog, and now you're in it
Ving says:
goddammit I'm sexy

Ving types, "Ving types"... he then realizes this sentence makes sense, just in time for Andy's response:

Andy says:
yay
Andy says:
now look at this convo im having

Andy then sends Ving a file which Ving declines out of spite. Ving then begins laughing uncontrollably. Andy calls Ving an asshole. Ving runs out of things to say. Ving looks down at his flaccid penis. He looks back at the monitor. Back at his peni-- a new MSN message from AngryDrunk.
Why is everyone still awake? Ving ponders to himself. He then responds to AngryDrunk's email, deciding not to write what he wrote. Ving appreciates Irony and a sense of mystery.

Forrest Gump was a good movie, Ving types onto Blogger. Ving wonders if he could rip himself open from the belly button. He looks down the investigate, but again is distracted by penis. He remembers it's Valentine's day and decides not to touch himself, afraid that he may chuch. Ving contemplates describing what Chuching is, but decides against it.

Ving changes his mind: Chuching is when you cry while you masterbate. Ving types.

Ving shivers, he is cold. Ving contemplates putting on clothes and screaming as loud as he can to wake up his baby brother, then throwing his stepmom down the stairs when she comes to tend to him. Ving realizes his stepmom will read this so he says that he never actually had this intention.

I never really had this intention.

The fact that this is not as funny or entertaining as the concept seemed to him 2 minutes ago enters Ving's mind. Ving decides that it's time to stop writing this piece of trash. He thinks of good way of ending, when all of a sudden he stops writing.

EDIT #1: This is no longer live commentary. My brother re-offered the file, and I accepted it. I thought I'd share my brother's brilliance with you:

Click on it to make it open BIGGER in another window. Or this one. I don't know. Now I'm going to bed. Jesus Christ, the things I do for you people.