i be crushin'.

I just watched a movie and fell in love. His name is Miles Teller and he looks like a baby John Cusack. I really thought Miles was John's son. But he's not. No matter. I love him. The poor little guy has been type-casted. His character is always the same in every movie. Project X. 21 and Over. And now That Awkward Moment. He's that obnoxious party boy that objectifies women and reeks of crude humor. But for some reason, I just want to meet him and marry him tomorrow. He's just so adorable.

Am I right or am I right?

I went for a hike this morning and ended up dangling from a cliff. I do that sometimes. It feels good to get out, and up, far away from the clogged up city streets.

A past roommate had the chemical makeup of adrenaline tattooed on his inner bicep. Epinephrine. It looked like this:

As boring as it looks, I think that's something I might be into getting. That way if I ever end up falling off one of those cliffs I like to dangle from, people will know it was the adrenaline's fault.

As I was dangling this morning, there were two young boys, probably about 14 or so, long-boarding down the mountain. I sat on my perch and watched them "drift" around blind corners. Those of you who know Santa Barbara know drifting on a longboard at the top of Gibraltar Road probably isn't the safest thing to do. Adrenaline. It'll get ya. 

Yeah, I was Miley Cyrus for Halloween. 

People loved the costume. I loved it too, but I really could have done without the constant drunken nagging from all the party attendees. They just kept shouting at me to twerk. And for once in my life, I beat peer pressure. Ya know, the only real reason her ass shakes like that when she twerks is because she has absolutely no muscle back there. If I were to twerk there just wouldn't be any movement. I have bunz of steel. That was my excuse the whole night. It twerked. Excuse me, it worked.