Who was that guy?

I came home today from travelling abroad and found that a squatter was living in my house. Now, this didn't bother me so much since he did a pretty good job keeping it clean. He even sorted my socks. The problem was, he has been publishing to my blog. I know I should have hidden the password somewhere, but I have such a horrible memory. Maybe it was a bit much to have the address and the password written on a piece of paper next to the computer, on a whiteboard above the computer and even scrolling across the screen of my computer after 10 minutes of inactivity, but it was in my house. You'd think you could trust the squatters to not get into things that aren't theirs'. Well, you can pretty much expect them to get into houses that aren't theirs', I mean, they are squatters after all, but that should be all you would have to expect them to get into. You can't trust anyone these days.

Anyway, I let him finish sorting my socks while I took a nap and then I rushed him from my house with a stern wagging of my finger in his general direction, but not until I got his number. After all, my socks aren't going to sort themselves.

At any rate, here I am, back from where I have been. Of course that goes without saying. If I hadn't of been anywhere other than here, then saying I was back would be somewhat of a fib. If I wasn't here typing this now, I'd still not be back, which would not only be a lie to say I was, but a bit of a paradox as well. But I digress...

I am here now, and boy do I have some cool stuff to tell you all. You would not believe what happened to me while I was out abroad. When I tell you this story, you guys are going to be like, "Wow, dude, I can't believe that happened. What an awesome story and you told it so well!" It will be that epic.

But, look at the time. I will have to tell you later. It is freaking unbelievable...