BooBoo Bon Fitten Houser... Duct Tape is Awesome part 2

I stole the title of this post from a couple of my friends.

I want to sing "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" but I can't whistle.

I have played on the same text-based MMORPG for four and a half years.

I want to write one fan fiction story.
I want to write one where Louis and Lestat go to Forks and brutally murder the Cullens. I then want to send the story to Anne Rice with a note saying that I am protecting her legacy.

Big Bird and Captain Kirk are the best combination ever.

I hate it when my friends change their names on Skype. It's so fucking confusing.

I would laugh in the face of Danger but Danger is usually accompanied by Pain and I don't like being ganged up on.

Maybe one day I will grow up.

I am a megalomaniac. Self diagnosed of course.

So far, my research into the sport called hockey has only led me to Jeff Carter.
Jeff Carter is hot.
The nerd in me tried to write Jack Carter.
Hmm... Jack Carter... Colin Ferguson is hotter that Jeff Carter (jussayin)

I love Canada.

I have to watch the end of "Wrath of Khan" alone.

I have a very good friend in Slovenia. I call him my "Little Commie Friend." He's not a Communist but he sounds a little bit like a Russian so it works for me.
No offense to the people of Russia.
I also ask that friend how things are in the Eastern Bloc. Geography be damned.

I have realized that at the age of 27, I have managed to do all but three of the things I have always wanted to do in my life.

All that I need to recharge is a Star Trek marathon (any and all of the series' and movies), Spaghetti-O's, Cherry Kool-Aid, and Cherry Garcia ice cream.

Teenagers scare me to the point of never wanting to have children.

I hope and pray everyday that I don't have to say the word "caulk."
I had a dental appliance on the roof of my mouth when I got braces as a child. It led me to develop a slight speech impediment. Double consonants beginning with the letter "L" give me problems.
Please don't make me say the word "caulk" as it doesn't sound as innocent as it should when I say it.

My father instilled in me a love for science fiction and westerns.

I can't stand the smell of bourbon but I love the smell of sour mash.

I cry like a baby every time Spock dies. Seriously. Hysterical sobbing occurs.