I'm addicted to porn!

No, not really. But wouldn't that be funny is MTV made a show called "MTV true life - I'm addicted to porn!"?

I fancy myself as a thinking man. With that said, I may display the proclivity to over think things. Many years ago, I wasn't able to stare at a wall without being inundated with a plethora of meaningless thoughts. Only a couple of years ago
I started playing Goalie and taking pucks to they head. I have never thought clearer. I can stare at a wall all day and not think of a single thing. This frees up my brain to think about only important things. While this might seem like a gift from the heaven's, it is actual quite burdensome. My elevated thinking abilities have put added pressures on myself to save the world and its dwindling competancy. Curing cancer, figuring out why Tara Reed is famous (is a bad boob job and poor acting skills enough these day?!?! I know they are obligatory traits for porn but mainstream movies?), and new ways to scam Wal-Mart are some of my daily musings.

Yesterday I discovered something so bizarre that it was a challenge to wrap my 7 3/4 inch head around it. Last night I thought I would mix it up a bit. Typically, when I get a sweet tooth, I stammer out to the vending machine and purchase a Sierra Mist. It's not the best soda in the world but it's definetly not the worst. It's close proximity and effervescent flavor keep bringing me back. In an effort to take the monotony out of soda monogamy, I thought I would switch it up. I knew exactly the soda, HAWAIIAN PUNCH!

HAWAIIAN PUNCH!, for those of you that have never consumed it or have forgotten it entirely, is a magical little concoction. For one, it's lack of carbonation may be one reason why it may have slipped under the soda radar but makes little sense because of its molecular imperviousness to agitation via vending machine handling. An enigma of sorts, HAWAIIAN PUNCH! contains only %5 juice and was originally intended to be an ice cream topping since its conception in 1934.

So last night Phil, Colette and I went in search of aforementioned HAWAIIAN PUNCH! It seemed about as easy as finding gay people in San Fransisco. Not true. After 4 different stops, (7-Eleven, Foodland, ABC store, and Whaler's Village - you should all be ashamed of yourselves) we had called it a night. Can you believe we couldn't find HAWAIIAN PUNCH! in Hawaii!??!? Even irony got a chuckle out of this one. Completed dejected that we had not found HAWAIIAN PUNCH! on our Harold and Kumar-esque journey, we resorted to pineapple juice iinstead.

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