the end.

p.s. buried in school work for the moment, will resume posting when things settle.

p.p.s. i really need to know… is it time to kill yourself when you keep getting myspace messages like this:

Date: Nov 29 2006 7:54 AM Flag spam/abuse [ ? ]
Subject: No Subject
Body: Hey Brandon! you seem pretty cool. I am moving to your area in a few weeks and am looking for some friends. Let me know if you are interested!

from chicks like this:

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(which one? does it fucking matter?!)

sweet F.A.

November 24, 2006

here’s a tribute to the brits, alex and crash: “here’s to absent friends.”

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i’m very much trying to avoid beginning a paper that was due earlier today.  so much in fact, that i skipped the class and stayed home and watched network television.  i’m trying (and with a lot of success) to occupy my time enough to where i can say “well now, i just don’t have time.”


rick and paul called, wanted to know where they were pouring the coldest beer in town.  invented by chuck pruce, this is the standard way we ask, “you wanna go get a beer?”  

ce soir l’exemple: 

rick:  “dude.”

el penningtino:  “hey.”

rick:  “i heard somewhere–right now–they’re pouring the coldest beer in town.”

el penningtino:  “oh yeah–where’s that?”

rick:  “can’t call it; prolly the flying saucer tho…”

el:   “indeed.  what time we hittin’ the door?”

rick:  “up to you.”

el:  “alright, i’ll ask around but i’m pretty sure we’re atleast 15 minutes late.”


admist all this, i somehow thought to check my voicemail.  i had 27 new messages.  from these i gathered:

-kevin scott canterbury hates pennsylvannia.  “and their fucking turnpike.”

sabrina_c really is the drunk i thought she was.  her message was something about whiskey, jaeger, and running through the streets of agora hills half naked.  oh yeah and she’d like me to call her at 8:00a.m. central standard everyday. 

-that chick from french class really can’t get a clue.

-my mom is still crazy.  [some constants are comforting.]

-people i work with would love for me to call them back.



here’s a link to my friend paul’s band’s website: 

if you’re a myspacer, give’em the add… tell ’em you heard of him here.Image Hosted by ImageShack.usImage Hosted by ImageShack.usImage Hosted by ImageShack.usImage Hosted by ImageShack.usImage Hosted by

nolan james kellar.

November 10, 2006

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some of you might know him as “josh tillont.”

you see, nolan here isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, he’s a few chicken nuggets short of a happy meal, etc…

he thinks that just because he uses a fake name, he can say whatever he wants to whomever he wants and there’s no consequince…

apparently he’s never heard of IP addresses and google searches.  well nolan i have, and here’s what i found out about you:

you were born on august 16th, 1977. 

you live in Greenbrier, AR. 

your parents names are Johnny and Dianna.  they’re 58 and 56. 

your wife’s name is Jennifer Gwyn.  she’s 24. 

you have two kids, Dillon and Sara.

Also, this is you, right?

Nolan Kellar K&K Collectibles PO BOX 1126 GREENBRIER, AR 72058 United States [US] Phone: 5014728955

(i like how your email is “no lank”…seems fitting.)

but you don’t work for heritage anymore, do you? i checked.
i did find out, however,  that K&K collectibles is ran by you and your dad, Johnny, from his house. but i won’t post Johnny’s address on here.

in closing, you should be clear on a few things:

  1. i’m not sure how it is you know me, or honestly where any of this is coming from, but nolan make it a point that i never hear from you again.  if you ever threaten or make false, damaging claims about me or anyone else, be certain that a swift, acurate response is then yours.
  2. if this is some kinda hobby for you, you need to get a lot better at it.  your information was extremely easy to come by… none of the above falls under privacy act laws.  it’s all public record.  also, try to pick someone you’re smarter than.  i’m not the smartest guy you could’ve chosen; as a matter of fact, i’m sure these two guys could have done a much better job at roasting your ass, but you clearly weren’t even ready for me.
  3. grow-the-fuck-up.  you’ve got a wife and kids.  young kids.  they need their dad; it’s bad enough they have an ugly moron for a father, they don’t need him pissing off the wrong people and ending up in jail with his ass freshly kicked.
  4. and for clarity, nolan, be sure to fuck off completely. do you not realize what PJ and i do for a living? are you really this fucking stupid? i’ve got you for harrassment and threatning my personal property… all of your comments have the same IP; the same IP that traces right back to you. you do realize that because of the circumstances surrounding our jobs, you’d get Federal time not state… right? did you think of that nolan?

oh, and thanks for the 1,000 plus hits i’ve gotten from all this shit over the last two days.

gee, who could this be?

November 8, 2006

“Brandon da faggott said:
November 8th, 2006 at 3:25 pm e

You are a dumb son of a bitch. Guess what?? It’s not like I don’t know where you live, what you drive, where you work… Even what you are thinking (I know it’s hard 4 u to think much, but i bet you get a thought or two). You are such a fucking loser, but i will say you are a perfect picture of a solider. Lazy, dumb, you got the “don’t ask don’t tell” going for you, and by reading your posts the only way you can get laid by a female is to get her drunk & RAPE her. Damn it’s a shame that some good soliders have lost their life in Iraq & you made it back, but hell maybe that little motorcycle ya got will take care of that… Well, talk to you later fuck face!!

Just wondering, is your dad a fag too? Didn’t know if it ran in the family or not?”

you know apparently, i really hurt this guy’s feelings.  and wow, didn’t he have a lot of things to say about me…

i wonder why this guy is so emotional?… (this would be one of my two thoughts for the day)

cause that’s what this is, this is an emotional outburst.  you know, one of those teenage girl moments when they’re first getting their period.

pardon my coy speculation, but is this guy menstruating?

i don’t mean to lend this guy any creditability by throwing insults back at him…

but, for the life of me

i can’t understand why if, you know where i live, where i work, what i drive etc… and we have business, why not come see me?  why not just show up one of these places?  if there’s truly a matter that needs resolution, why wouldn’t you just come see me directly?

cause that’s what a grown man would do.

but instead of any backbone or fortitude, you give me a fake name and a bunch of 8th grade insults.  if you really wanna know if my Dad’s a cocksucker,  Ha!…you fuckin’ go ask him if he is… i’m sure he’ll let you know. 

but really man, i can’t take any of this seriously.  this is petty, bitch shit.  if you wanted any real response outta me, you would have atleast called.  [ 2-4-7-0-9-9-9]. 

but feel free to make an ass of yourself on my blog as much as you want, cause this “drama” will absolutely get me a lot of hits.  hell, your little comment got me over a 150 hits just this morning!  no telling what this post is gonna do… 

and as far as any “beef” between us, i’m just gonna view this as truly an “emotional outburst,” like a 13yr old girl throwing a fit when her cell phone gets taken or gets grounded from watching the O.C. or something.  you say a bunch of “mean, nasty” things you don’t mean and then you storm upstairs and have a good cry. 

i’m hoping that when you sober up or get done sucking your thumb, you’ll realize the levity of the mistake you’ve made and be really ashamed of yourself.  either way, i’m not gonna hold any of this against you–everybody has a bad day, and i’m not gonna make yours any worse. 

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here’s brand new reason to laugh at tom cruise:
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just curious… 

when i graduate in about year, i’m probably gonna move so i wanted some general speculation on the subject.


sometimes it’s okay to come to work…

yesterday, the watermain broke in front of my building.  apparently, the pipes are old and shitty, etc, etc… so they cut the water off at 4 o’clock yesterday.  

today because of those old, shitty pipes the bathrooms weren’t exactly operating up to standard.  and to the best of my knowledge, they informed everyone in the building but me and the guy who was in the stall next to the urinal i used… whoever that unlucky son-of-a-bitch was.  

now, i can’t use science or physics or any weird math to explain why when i pulled the flush crank on the urinal, that thing turned into “old faithful” and spewed absolute jet streams of water everywhere.  i also can’t explain why i was just fast enough to miss any and all projectiles from said urinal…

but i can tell you it’s like the urinal was aiming for that guy, cause i don’t think he missed a drop of water and my and whoever elses piss that flew over the side of the stall, underneath it–somehow it curved around front of it.  i dunno.  i just know that inside of 5 seconds, there was an inch of water on the floor and that guy was probably wearing another two… all before he had his pants up. 


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