The light in the window is a crack in the sky. It's married to darkness in the blink of an eye.

Ding dong. The witch is dead! But Eric is not ANYMORE!!!
So here we go again... as we approach the month and week of both Eric's b-day AND his d-day! June 1st, and June 7th. Cue the "Hallellughliah Chorus"!
Now cue "No More Tears".


Now take a nap!


THIS YEAR... Mis Padres are sending moi to "The City Of My Double Chin" to see a show entitled "Jersey Boys" about Frankie Vallie And The Four Seasons AND to view and partake of the splendour of Bourbon Street, (Respects... Ffarouch Bulsara. Respects forever... even though I PERSONALLY have NEVER killed a man, I oft times wish I'd never been hit by a truck at all.)(excerpt from "Stallion's Rhapsody"), AND to gain NO MORE than a few ounces at NO LESS than a few buffetts. I have placed a cap on my wieght gain limit. If I top 30 pounds... I'll be plumb torqued! Give me some room people, it IS my birthday (and I WILL have cheesecake of some sort on my d-day!) But hey, it's all good; I have recently ascertained Doctor's permission to start riding my newly ascertained excersize bike in my room! What's that? This bike is foreign to ya'll? I guess that's what happens when you blog quarterly. Crapola. Ah well 'tis what 'tis. So here we go with the latest chaznapter in Eric's Book Of Maladies; chapter 1, verse 3:

In the end of February, earlier this year, I was given a grant from the Chrysalis Corp. to purchase an excersize bike to further my "de-fat-inazation" of my chubstah self. So I ordered the bike. Prior to that, I had a surgery on my foot in January and so was confined to a wheelchair for three months (DAMN!) The bike was on back-order, SO WHILST STILL IN A WHEELCHAIR; I received the bike! Three weeks after I got my bike, I fell out of my wheel chair and shattered a vertebrate in my lower back! (fire up the chorus again!) THEN... two weeks after that happened I was standing doing my dishes and watching V to the h to the 1. Our dishwasher door, WHICH IS SERIOUSLY NEVER LEFT OPEN, was open! I didn't take my eyes off of watching clips of Robert Van Winkle (Vanilla Ice) make a royal fool of himself with THE GROSS MAJORITY of the rest of ALL of the seasons of The Surreal Life in a special. I turned to my left and walked directly into the door Then I used the word bequeath wrong and the Savior of Vocabulary, THE Quinnstah P. Lavender, corrected me. Then I cried myself to sleep on my huuge pilla! ALL true except for the vocab. thing with the crying. (that was another time!) I plummetted head first into the wall in our kitchen and BROKE MY FRICKIN' NECK! Cue that chorus once again! (I wish that I could honestly say ONCE, but I know my own history too well! A man can dare to dream though.) So, what it all comes down to is that; at this point I look like Robocop for like 5 or 6 more weeks.

1 good... POSITIVE factor?...

Pitty points de las mujeres en Las Vegas!

Mas manana,
Eric Breaking Stallion Evans