Guys, I have some bad news. There is the distinct possibility that I am actually dead and my corpse has been reanimated for the sole purpose of telling you why. Yesterday, for family home evening, we went "Classic Skating" as a ward. And as it turns out, when you're in college, classic skating actually means "spend the first 20 minutes remembering how to skate, then try to do crazy stunts with your equally crazy roommate." The stunt of choice for the night was the one me and Mark perfected, in which I would take a wide skating stance and he would skate through my legs. Keep in mind that I'm using the term skate through my legs loosely in this context. What I actually mean is that he would start to skate through my legs, clip me in the knees with his shoulders, and I'd fall over backward. Various parts of my body are sore as I type this, including but not limited to all of it.
Additionally, me and Rob ran out of food this week. Meaning that I still have my massive stores of canned food under my bed, but we ran out pasta and tortillas, effectively making it impossible to eat. And yes, you could say, "Matt, you could just cook up some of the canned food you were talking about..." and I'd say, "Point conceded." I could cook up some of the canned food I was talking about... if I had no soul. A man shouldn't have to work for his dinner, people.
Let's knock some bookkeeping out of the way. Next week, I may or may not post, depending on how lazy I get. Everyone who reads my blog is going to see me. Except for the random guy in the Netherlands who has viewed my blog 6 times. That's right man, I don't know who you are, but I'm still thinking about you. I'll think about it and get back to ya'll.
Final stories to tell: Nope, got nothing. It's good to be back to the blogging business after a short hiatus. The prodigal son returneth.
Catch ya on the flip side,
Matty, in the flesh
P.S. Not actually in the flesh. It's digital, guys.