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thebrownperil
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Location: Honolulu, Hawaii, United States
Birthday: 3/21/1980
Gender: Male
Interests: Reading, writing, laughing, family.
Expertise: I make a mean clam bake.
Occupation: Military
Industry: Government
Message: message me
AIM:  mistermiranda
Member Since:
1/13/2003
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| Upon further review, Mike's Quality of Life Committee (composed of himself) has issued the following statement regarding becoming 30 years of age: "Being in your 30's is great. You're at the right maturity to be the older guy that college girls want, and still have enough youth to attract cougars without making them feel like they're robbing the cradle." We'll keep you posted. | | |
| Over the past 10 years or so, I've had this hankering to be a DJ on a soft rock/jazz/easy listening radio station like 94.7 WAVE (Los Angeles) or 94.7 KUMU (Honolulu). I know it's not real jazz, but there's this combination of culture and romance that these stations have that survives only here on radio, since MTV and MP3 has changed the landscape of music entertainment. I've always imagined myself playing Al Jarreau, Boney James, and Sade tracks after 8 PM while taking requests from hopeless romantics in a great, big city, helping them fill that void with 4 minutes of song. "And that's tonight's Love Lines..." | | |
| The texture and flavor is like no other animal. What I don't like is how fast I digest it. Two hours later and I'm hungry again. Bleh...and it's after 11 AM--too late to eat again. | | |
| It seems like I keep coming back to Xanga when it's cold and rainy, and I have nothing else to do at night. I'm sorry if I make you feel like you're second-rate, or I'm giving you sympathy attention, Xanga. You're actually a nice person for listening and letting me say what I want without judging me. | | |
| After a treacherous, arduous, 4-mile hike, I sought anything and everything to sooth my legs, arms, and back that were just kicked, punched, and gnawed on by one of the most secluded valleys on this verdant island.
Two bottles of ice-cold water quenched my thirst, but I really needed something more. And so I gave in. Paid $7.50 for a milkshake. Seven MOTHER-F'in fifty. It was good, tho. Homemade taste. Still not sure if it was good, good. Maybe it was good because I just hiked through Hell. Or maybe I convinced myself that it was good because I spent $7.50 on it.
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