untangling headphones... in the dark.

The Internet: a traveler's guide

(like, fucking all of it. If websites were locations.)

Google: The Google high rise is a cutting edge tech information supercenter. Thousands of user input panels access the largest database of everthing anywhere, forever. White is the predominant color, and the skyscraper rises beyond sight. Glass elevators lead to other levels, full of cinemas, mailing centers, cartography centers, and thousands of other unique locales. Google is one of the most futuristic places on the web.

4chan: You enter a room, filled with dozens of doors, labeled /a/, /b/, /c/ etc. and others /rs/ /wg/ /r9k/ etc. Each room is filled with a distinct population. Anime lovers reside in /a/, gun freaks reside in /k/ (weapons), car lovers in /o/ (auto) and above them all is a golden, illustrious door: /b/. Through it reside a number of murderous psychopaths, douchebags, losers, geeks, nerds, jerks, asshats, anon's, "psychics", and perverts. There is no law or order, without a leader in sight.

Yahoo!Answers: The forum of Yahoo!Answers is best described as a swirling chaotic void full of idiocy and anger. From attention whores to tweens raging at parents to "pregnant OMG help!" girls, not a single interesting or intelligent idea is presented here. Back away slowly, and check the nearest free clinic to see if you've gotten anything.

Youtube: Much like the forum mentioned previously, a chaos. However, in this there is much information to be found, along with humor, viral videos, idiocy, pornography, pirated music, music videos, anime slideshows, news, auto-tuned everything, and a billion other things. Near the door is friendly-looking upload interface, allowing you to upload whatever you wish for the internet to see.

Newgrounds: Imagine a downtown area, where various shops and centers await your perusing. Many great ways to waste time can be found here, all rated and submitted by the public. It is a loud and busy place, a fantastic area to get lost in.

LICD.com: Inside of an unassuming little house lies a comedian, who remarks upon life, sex, and travels the world. He is a charming fellow, and is a good person to spend time with.

XKCD.com: Inside of a futuristic ampitheater lies a comedian with a math degree, educating the public in a humorous way, while also satirizing society, romance, mathematics, and many other facets of daily life. He is a hugely popular act, completely free but supported by donations.

Wikipedia: Once a great nation, wikipedia suffers now from a strong uprising of vandals and douchebags. It's great hall of information now covered in graffiti, but many areas are still readable and interesting. It is navigated via a series of ladders, ramps and doorways leading to related topics, and quiet jazz music plays constantly, adding a relaxed air to the entire area.

ESRB.org: Inside of a prison hall lie millions of texts on popular forms of entertainment, stretching back fifty years. The place is remarked on by those who know it's true purpose, but it remains a scarce resourse, despite it's entertainment value (the aforementioned texts discuss in great detail (and with some wit) features of the entertainment).

ecbproject.blogspot.com: Comment?

This is my fourth attempt to write this

Not because it's hard to write, it's just the keyboard is being a bitch.

So, today started off around midnight, like it usually does. About an hour and a half before this, I'd gotten a call from my beloved Lydia saying that her mother had decided that we couldn't do anything together, we were too young. I read this, quite clearly, to mean her mom thought I was a date rapist.

Though this may be untrue, I stand by my views.

Anyway, I go on facebook and rant about it a bit, and sarah shae and sasha the russian girl (props to them) decide to head to the mall. With Lydia and I. They plan this before telling either of us (or so I was told). Anyway, it was around this point I realized none of you particularly enjoy my "journal"-like entries, so I'll cut to the chase: this entire intro was an excuse for me to brag about kissing my girlfriend for hours on end.

But enough of that. Not one of you gives a shit about that, do you? No, you're here for my sparkling wit. In that case, I present now my thesis on females, after extensive (read: bullshit) study (and please don't write this off as sexist, the male thesis is coming tomorrow)

(before you read this, remember it will only be humorous if you, like I, find scientific analysis of random things funny. If not, I'll try and write two posts tomorrow. Comment, also.)

Females of the human race can be likened to foxes cross bred with bunnies and zebras. That is, they're unique, pretend (and can be) misundertood, cute, cunning, strategic-planning pack animals from some ridiculous fusion of hell, heaven, and a MAXIM magazine.

Females are generally shorter and more slender than their male counterparts, and tend to have higher voices. They keep their hair longer, with shoulder-length and longer being common, and body modifications (ie: ear piercings) are considered more the norm for females.

They are almost always found in groups, huddled together for protection from the aggressive brutes of the jock sub-species of males. Many of these groups are female-exclusive, with many male groups being graced by one or two females at best. The rest of the more graceful of the species spend time, as mentioned, huddled together for the many benefits groups present; ie: the trading of information "gossip", and the impressive numbers help deter potential predators (ie: losers/tools).

The female mentality, aside from the pack instinct, varies wildly. From sluts to nerds to normal girls to fashion divas to popular girls to feminazis to twilighters to sporty girls, the sub-species of females are numerous. In general, though, the more tolerable of the species share an open mindset, and often look for fun.

Of course, these are all generalizations. Each girl is, in fact, unique. And that is something I think we should all be thankful for.

(yes, my new years resolutions are to be less damn cheesy. Also, THE GAME.)

On the Inconveniences of the Human Race:

I find many facets of daily life inconvenient.

For example, the fleshy meatbag my brilliant mind calls home is horrifyingly inefficient, requiring thousands of calories to operate a measly 16 hours. During these sixteen hours it is a fine operational vehicle, but as much as two hours are spent maintaining it (showers, meals, etc.) and then, you must power down for eight hours!

This is but to scratch the surface, of course.

Then there is the sheer number of meatbags. Currently residing around 6 billion, the meatbag populace is growing to the point of taxing Earth beyond habitable levels. These numbers concentrate themselves, and exponentially increase the number of inconveniences.

Inconveniences, like lines. Lines, which could be dealt with if but ten percent of the meatbags weren't idiots, involve standing, and waiting, because demand has been let to grow far beyond supply. In this case, a simple training program teaching all meatbags to be cashiers would reduce the number of lines immeasurably.

Of course, alternative programs, such as self-checkout are already in place, but the sheeple that make up most of the meatbags simply ignore it, being to lazy or stupid to use these superior methods.

I thus propose that we alter the other end of the scale, and replace all cashiers with superhuman cyborgs, which would be able to the work of ten cashiers in a single moment. Thus the general meatbag populous would be able to continue their monotonous lives, but the rest of us would live without the inconveniences of lines.

Yes, the meatbag populous is a troubling thing. With help, of course, we can deal with lines, though. Just remember: the power is yours!

I make a lot of runs to safeway

Because I, the only person who can't legally drive, am the most mobile one in the house.

As it pertains to that, anyway. I mean, obviously those damn explosion powered beasts outrun me, but people are so damn LAZY about it. I mean, I have to pedal my way there, they can't be bothered to walk to the car! Jeebas.

Anyway, I was out at safeway the other day, (christmas eve, to be exact) getting sour cream for some recipe or other. I went in, got the stuff, and was feeling pretty happy. Life's good now, so that's how I feel a lot of the time. Like I was saying, I was standing in line, a little joybox, just chillin, waitin, etc, when the guy behind me freaking growls. Read that last word again. He growled at me. That's not normal. I looked back at him, to see if he'd been the source. He glared.

I went back to looking ahead, at normal people. He growled again.

Keep in mind, it was more a guttural, mmroarm than a ROARRRR! kind of thing, but still. Jeebas.

Just thought I'd share that with you lot. :D

I lay here, on my bed, writing this,

because I, thanks to a certain kind friend, have been made to feel like I have an audience again. Thanks goes out to Tarra for commenting. A lot.

Right. So, it's Saturday. Yesterday was Christmas (which is a weird thought) and in 5 days there will be a new year to deal with.

So, mayhap a roundup of this year is in order?

So, 2009: In list form:

1. The Beginning:

I started off this last-first-decade-of-this-millennium as an eighth-grader. While I no doubt owned that town, there were a few downsides: ie; the douchebags who harassed me daily, Mrs. Spanos, and a few bad mistakes on the girlfriend front.

2. Speaking of Girlfriends:

In order, from birth, I went out with raina, emma, shannon, devon, sabrina, jenny, and now (my favorite) Lydia. I saw raina when I was 6; I'm firmly under the impression that emma was in 7th grade; I shannon was either in 7th or 8th; devon was in 8th; sabrina, jenny, and of course Lydia were in 9th.

3. That wasn't me bragging, I swear.

I'd come up with a good reason, but I was busy having a sip of lager downstairs. Which brings me to the upsides of '09: First kiss, nerf guns, russian hats, epic parties, best friends, weddings, road trips, driving, make out sessions, movies, video games, and far too much for this poor post to take.

4. The world in general:

First black president, sarah palin, foo fighters ended, the east coast was interesting for about a month, nuclear weapons programs, tiger woods, and little else my hardly-even-tipsy brain can remember.

5: Moi.

Uh, see post 50.

So I haven't been posting regularly

You haven't been commenting regularly. I guess that makes us even, does it?

Well, happy New Irish St. Chrismalloweenstergiving Boxing Day Eve Eve. I haven't gotten a single present, since not one of you lot have commented. Bah humbug. I did, however, get to drink some lager at Nicki's b-day party, go to Chris's and have the time of my life, and see Avatar. Read on.

Fuck the lager, it's self explanatory. Let's start with Chris's party. So, imagine it. It's a cold, dark night. Anthony walks in the door. A trail of rose petals, illuminated by candles, leads to the bedroom, where...

Wait, wrong story. Back up.

Ok, Monday, I went to Chris's. I arrived with Ian, I on a bike, him in a minivan. I got in, Austin was already there, and there was much partying. Jon was there as well, (and chris, obviously) and much more partying was had. Add pizza, coke, and Die Hard (which is an S&M porno, by the way) and you've got a smorgasbord of awesome. Later, halfway through the first Matrix, Chris's mum came in, and we talked to her for two hours. That was fun. I, being ever so civil, worked my way into her heart, via complements and a love of blue cheese (freaking srs). Then, it was 11, and peeps left.

I stayed overnight.

Chris and I talked to his mum some more, and then retired to his room at about 12. We went on the ol' computer till 2, when we broke out glow bracelets and silly putty. We made the most epic necklace o'glow ever, to the tune of 21, which was a pretty great movie (I <3 Jim Sturgess). At 3, Jon arrived back home from where he had been, and we talked to him (about shit I can't discuss here. Sorry) for two hours. We did come to the conclusion that St. Peter is probably way behind, and God likes to be black, on occasion.

Following this, we broke out Life and rise against, then turned them (and the lights off) to make chris's mum think we were asleep (which we totally were). I owned his FACE.

I texted Lydia, apologizing for responding 5 hours late, and that woke her up. So I apologized for that and texted Austin, who'd just woken up for an early morning start towards LA. So, he woke up before we went to sleep.

We knocked off around 6:30, a bit of the way into Across the Universe, and woke up at noon.

We watched Dr. Who, Across the universe, and then I watched Jon play EVE (which I am now hooked on) while Chris rocked out with some Pokemon.

Then I came home, and was totally ignored by all the girls in our house (which included an additional Mrs. Carter, Autie Sue, Katie Foltz, and Rachel carter. So I went upstairs midway through HP 6 and played on da comp.

Now, I listen to traditional New Irish St. Chrismalloweenstergiving Boxing Day Eve Eve music, that is, the Across the Universe soundtrack (go, Joe Cocker, go).

Also, I pray to whatever god you do or don't worship that you comment in time for New Irish St. Chrismalloweenstergiving Boxing Day.

PLEASE.

I'm listening to "king" by weezer right now,

and I highly recommend it. Very nice song.

Today was my four-week/one-month anniversary with Lydia. There was kissing, gifting, and ass-grabbing (yeah, really.), but mostly it was just normal. Regardless, it's a normal I like.

Also, Trevor died. Well, he was pronounced officially brain-dead. So, after they harvest his organs, they pull the plug. And he dies. When the news came to the classroom, I looked in the desk next to mine, where he usually sat. The bombshell dropped in our room a few minutes early, as Bond broke it to us before it came over the announcement thing. I was one of two people not crying. I felt like a dick for not feeling sad, but I ate chocolate in English, 6th, and joked a bit with the sub. Sweet was at crisis. The sub wants me in her english class next year.

I'll be in black and gray tomorrow.

R.I.P Trevor.

having a refreshing walk around campus.

yes! it works!

more mobile testing...

I won't publish this until someone comments on the last post

Since you lot are reading this, I assume you have.

To the point: I had a dream thursdaynight. It goes like this:

I am with my boy scout troop. We're backpacking through some sandstone. A few of us head into a crevasse, to see upside-down dolphins. We are reminded not to turn them right side up, or they'll see everything upside down. Then, one of us presses a red button, and great whites swim into the tank, and start eating the dolphins, who get owned. Then, there's just one shark, and this fairy-godmother for dolphins appears, and talks to the grumbling shark. The word pimp is involved.

The people who didn't join us watch the tank through a porthole fastened to the sandstone.

Then, we get on hiking, and reach (immediately) a desert town with shacks from hawaii. I run ahead and meet Chris Vance at the bar, where we get drinks and a pair of hot indian chicks. The scout leader comes in and we hide the alcohol. We suddenly end up in Chris and I's very narrow hotel room that somehow fits two very large beds through walls that we can see. I get one of the indian chicks, but direct her to Chris, with a simple suggestion of, "Threesome?" Because I didn't want to cheat on Lydia. Suddenly, chris and I drop into an ice cave, full of freezing water. We swim towards the end, going through little bits of ice at the end till we reach solid ice. We get on there, freezing cold and panting, and my dream ends.

Blame Conor

But first, thank him. He's commented, which means another post. Also, he's nice. :D

Aside from that, blame him, this post is his fault. Look, I have a record. 10 comments on a single post. We beat that, I will be happy. No one comments, I stop writing.

Just for this post. Just remember, a comment a day keeps the doctor away.

We had a sub in english today. She was old. I think old people are funny.

Haha. Old people.

Speaking of old people, I saw my grandma Sunday. In the course of the dinner, an 80-odd year old woman called my sister's top "sexy." It was the greatest moment of my life. Which may have been helped by the cake. Delicious, truthful cake. Lemon cake.

Went to boy scouts tonight. Got paired with a 10 year old looking at our troop. Allow me to put it like so: I haven't met such a flaming douchebag in years. No manners, no thank you, no patience, I hated him. I should've tossed him in the fires we were playing with (really.) At the end, we needed a prayer, and the chaplain was gone. As ex chaplain, I was volunteered for the task. I mentioned that I was also an Atheist, leading a few dozen in prayer. Laughs were had.

A comment a day keeps me away from your door. With a herpes knife. For clarity, that's a knife, coated in Herpes. That I stab you with.

Hence, comment. Seriously, please.

One day there will be a condition named after me

for people who write endless amounts of bad blog posts at ridiculous hours of the morning while their brains are pumped up on citric acid (found in orange soda. I don't do drugs.)

I completely failed at overhauling my comp's UI today. Yes, (something)lite or whatever it happened to be called was such a b!tch to deal with, I deleted it. And now I growl at how ugly vista is.

GRAWROAR! RAAAAGE!

Following this, I made a picture of a giant robot my background, and immediately felt better. I like giant robots. Caveat, don't expect this post to be stellar. It's 3 AM now, and I'm as effed up as one can be without imbibing a shred of alcohol or narcotics. For kicks, I could keep going on the sleep deprivation, but I'm saving that for summer, when I may or may not convert to a new sleep schedule that would mean I spend 6 hours more awake each day.

While in transition, however, you get 4 days of feeling like sh!t from sleep deprivation and, oh yes, hallucinations. Yeah, like being on drugs, but cheaper and with less sleep, I suppose.

Narcotic comatose states aside, I started really looking at the hit counter recently, and I was blown away. Thank each and every one of you for visiting and reading. It's nice, even if none of you comment and only visit to see how bad this is. If it's like that, then go ahead and tell me. Not having to do this would free up a lot of my time.

It would, however, be a bit of a loss. Since it's here I can tell inside jokes and piss people off from the comfort of my own bed. At 3 in the un-man-in-the-sky-ly morning.

-St. Anthony Danger Clarke, nope-da-pope of Anthistianity.

I GOT MY ORANGE SODA BACK

AND IT IS MOTHEREFFINGDELICIOUS.

So, I just checked my wrist, and I need a watch. Jesus aside, as formal nope-da-pope of Anthistianity, I declare myself a saint. St. Anthony. Has a nice ring to it. I could market that...

Alright, laughing? Good, now, lets kill the mood with a mothereffing BOMBSHELL. Mah girlfriend is outta town all weekend. D: Now. Pretend you're sad. Oh, did I not mention that? For anyone severly out of the loop (or solar system, for you aliens out there), I'm in a relationship. Just throwing that out there. It might explain why Lydia is written on my arm. Or maybe Dad spiked my orange soda and this is all a delusion. Well, bless him. When I wake up, I'm asking for more.

Also, I got a haircut. It makes Lydia happy, as she (among other peeps) enjoys rubbing my head. Regardless, each and every time I look in the mirror, I stair at my buzzcut and think to myself, "Self, we look like a huge douchebag right now." Because I, well, do.

Additionally, I rented a few games. Dark sector kicks ass. However, that's not why your here, is it? You're here because I'm funny. So, lets get to the funnies, shall we?

Recently, I was blowing off my homework (like usual) and listening to stereomood (which I highly reccommend) and a certain kind of song came on. A mellow kind of song. The kind where you sit back and chill, just to listen. So, I stared at a lightbulb. And then it hit me: each and every day, we pass thousands upon thousands of little wonder machines that MAKE LIGHT. JEEBAS. Look around your room. Take any electronic, and think of how wondrous it is. The cell phone you have with you? Before you reply to your friend, who's drooling over me again, think about what the damn thing can do. Take pictures, play music, mine has a touchscreen, on top of all that, I could talk to some dude in Shanghai. RIGHT NOW.

You watch all those sci-fi movies (right? I'm not the only one?) and you think, "Wow! Anthony is pretty damn good looking! Also, these future-people have all this cool crap! The future rocks! Like Anthony!" Well, that hit me too. Not how good I look. But we reached the future. Several thousand miles away, in the desert, robot assassins with thermal vision are flying over troops with missiles capable of destroying a building.

Welcome to the future. People in the future comment, by the way.

Religion

As an agnostic (think an atheist, but a bit less radical), I'm the last person who should be talking about this (read as: godless heathen.)

In order to avoid one of my famous rants about religion (a vehicle for oh shit, there I go...), I'm instead taking a radically different standpoint. I'm starting one. Welcome then, heathens, to the formal founding of Anthistianity.

Anthistianity has all the marks of a classical religion, in order to facilitate the transfer from Christianity, Judaism, Atheism, Scientology, Catholiscism, or being a Pedestrian. For example, we believe in a higher being. Or, at least, you lot do. I'm the higher being.

I recognize only one creature on the same plane of the mortal coil as me, the mascot of our church: Fred, the flying, purple, squidlike apocalypse beast who can also change color. He's the reason the world is going to end in 2012, when he enters earth, at the summer olympics, and eats everyone there, with the singular exception of the people on Good Morning America. Following this, he will form a new nation, which will operate much like the vatican does, and prove apocalypse beast supremacy through the dialect of olympic sports. So basically, think of Fred like a Jesus for you Anthistians.

Anthistians have a few basic duties, some of which are not stolen from the Christian church. These duties include worshiping your god (Me), his son (Fred, the flying, purple, squidlike apocalypse beast who can also change color), and the spirit embodying both of them, Golf. Worship is to be enacted by sending me money, and philosophical debate on the true nature of my glory is encouraged.

Not to be outdone by "real" religions, we have a book. It's name changes on a semi-regular basis, and it's updated every tuesday, and friday/saturday. Keep a copy of this on a computer near your bed, and kiss it goodnight.

And, as the icing on the flying purple apocalypse cake, we have some commandments. They are a secret, but they all may be strictly enforced, except on days ending in "y", then only odd-numbered commandments count.

My church welcomes you, heathen. We welcome you to the lukewarm embrace of Anthistianity.

I stand by my previous statements.

Unless it offended any off you. In that case, I grab it and rub it in your face.

Don't tell me you were expecting me to be kind. Have any of you met me? I would make Lewis Black blush. But I'm not all bad.

In fact, I can be downright civil and educational. I'm sure that certain unnamed parties (who will remain anonymous) are now bristling with newfound knowledge which they will, with a little luck, wait until they're legal to use (seriously.)

What? We had a sub in english who didn't give a damn what we did, so I talked. All period. And most of the study session. Blame the topic on the style magazine (full of revealing shots of women) that someone left on my desk. It was a sign. From Xenu. Now that I have broadened the views of a few people, I think I'm ready to start a religion.

Next post, I think.

Summer

I was hit with a revelation recently, as I sat on my roof, drinking orange soda and listening to boston (more than a feelin', for those who are interested.) I thought about summer, since what I was doing, I felt, embodied the spirit of the season.

And then it, of course, hit me. Summer isn't a season. It's an attitude. The kind of attitude that sings, forget school, forget tomorrow, forget it all but the orange crush and your swim trunks. Forget everything but the next party you're off to, and the name of the song your ipod is playing.

And I think I rather like the sound of that. So I declare my allegiance to it.

I declare my allegiance to blowing off projects, sitting on a roof, shirtless, with dyed sugarwater, and feeling great.

I'm going to regret this post, but I rather like it. Cheers, everyone, I'm off to regret this.

2 O'Clock in the morning post

Because bad ideas and early mornings go well together.

They also, apparently, go well with insanity. I keep seeing things out the window. There isn't anything there.

I have no idea why I'm writing this now, I simply am. Bear with me?

So, remember Exercise with Jesus from post cinquenta? It exists. I kid, of course. That horrifying little ad is nothing more than a disguised promo for Dante's inferno. Still, I chuckled. The pew controller bit made my day. Sad part is, I bet someone, somewhere is developing this. RIGHT NOW.

Abuse of the linkage aside, yesterday was sunday. And it was great not doing anything on a sunday. How's your vacation going so far, readers? Mine's fantastic. :D (and a certain person seems rather happy, unrelatedly.)

Awfully-worded not-at-all-subtle-anymore-hints behind us, I'm left with little to say. I'd put something more into this, but my vision is flashing red, and it's scaring me. G'night, all.

I'm still not going into specifics,

but today kicked ass. If you have the slightest idea of who I am, you'll know what that probably means.

I'd love to dwell, I really would, but I have my doubts about this post as is, so lets get to the funny shit you all came for, shall we?

I refuse to put a caveat that only gamers should pass here, since everyone owns a Wii. Shut it, you do. It prints money. Everything from Nintendo prints money. Even the SP I own. And the pokemon emerald that's still in there.

What was I getting at? Right, the Wii.
One can look at all the new things coming out, in the gamer world (Project Natal, The Eye of Judgement), and look at the Wii. Why? It's to blame. Now we have to exercise, and it's going to look ridiculous. We're going to be running, jumping, and shooting, and some guy is gonna walk by the living room window, and see us. It's going to be ridiculous. No, I want to be on my couch, covered in the crumbs of the Doritos I'm eating, chugging orange soda and nailing storm troopers with down, down, up, X, Y, right.

But the companies are like marketing geniuses, targeting the weak and uniformed of the gamer's family: the soccer moms. You know, the ones who grab the minivan, drive you to church, soccer, hockey, school, jimmy's, and the ice cream place, by day, and complain about you coming alongand having ruined their dreams by night. Humor aside, it's true. They hear the word family tacked on to anything, fun, experience, movie, homicide, whatever, they rush like bulls to get it. So when those peeps over at nintendo tacked ol' faithful on to the wii, they rushed like bulls to get it (it's not proverbial, I'm dead sure someone was trampled). So now EVERYONE has one, and we all dread hearing the old "Hey Anthony, come down and play the wii with me!" Since we all know it's going to be wii fit. Again.

And of course, nintendo has targeted their audience well. All the games, all the family-friendly-ness, soon we'll be charging down the stairs to protest having to play Exercise with Jesus. Again. But we can't protest, lest we get tacked with that awful label "teenager." It's almost as bad as calling us liberals. Or the mum thinks we hate her, and then we get yelled at, for them misunderstanding us. Excuse me, I'll go worship satan now, and maybe talk to all my friends about drugs. (Humor, dear friends, I don't talk to my friends about drugs.)

This is post 100.

Of, allegedly, a blog. Wierd, since no one comments on the classic blog bits, ie: me talking about my day. What a backwards world we live in. The same backwards world we're born in, and the same backwards world we die in. And then the same backwards world respawn in, I assume.

The last person to comment may or may not get orange soda. Regardless, this is post 100 of a blog I would've bet money would never make it this far. So comment, if you read this. You don't need to register or anything (I promise).

Possibly the worst post I've ever written. No joke, this one's awful

Now that I'm done denying that it's 10:17, I can write a bit.

I should get some tango music for this thing. Remind me to embed that, I think a bit of music would spice this thing up, since my writing of late has been (admittedly) sub-par. Then again, maybe just listening to The Tango Maureen for the nth time has skewed my view. Anyway. Would anyone like that?

Seeing as I have, as per usual (if my pessimism would have its way) nothing to write about, I'm going to go eat something in the hopes it inspires me.

I'm back. I was thinking about something, it is now completely gone. I should note, it's been the better part of a half hour, and I've written a long series of things like this, that is, things saying I'm about to get to the actual post.

I will now, as such, degrade into wierd stories, which may or may not entertain you.

I have only one set of cousins. Well, technically, I have two, but the ones on my dad's side are all old, in fact, I think I'm an Uncle. I just have no idea to whom. Point is, I was e-mailing my cousin, and she when she responded, she was like, "Sorry for long response, was with my other cousins." And it hit me like a freight train, (leaving pittsburgh at 5:30 PM, heading towards Joanesburg where another train left at 5:00 PM, the first at 130 MPH and the second at...) Woah, I think all this math homework is getting to me. Bad puns aside, I realized that most people have two sets of cousins. One on each parent's respective side of the family. I have one set that I've ever really met. I did meet the one of my cousins (who's, like, 30) at my grandpa's funeral, but we didn't talk. Yes, the funeral where my dad laughed at the saintly picture they painted of his asshole of a father (bless his heart :P). What was I going on about? Oh yes, stories.

Gather round, children, there's more sh1t to sit through. Unless you've given up on me, which I can't blame you for (really, LOOK at the last few posts. Awful.) Maybe that explains the lack of comments. To move on, (there it is again. I ALWAYS say that) I once went to Africa. No joke. It was amazing. Yes, in real life. That may be part of where my smexy british accent comes from.

See, while on the plane back from kenya (it went kenya->britain->NY), I sat next to a british lady, who I talked to for eight hours and beat at top trumps (card game. Don't make me get into it.) She claimed I hustled her at it, as well, which I remain undecided on, since I secretly was, but I didn't realize I was doing it. However, seeing as we didn't bet anything (I hope), its all good. Anyway, apparently, for three days after the trip, and said plane flight with british lady, I had a british accent. Cheerio, and all that. I didn't notice. Look, I'm sure I've told all of you all of this.

Comment, or we never see 100. O:

Por favor?

Well, shit

I shan't go into specifics, I simply note that a few things I'm planning are going to require a LOT of work. I don't like work, in the slightest. One might even go so far as to say I've developed a toolkit for wasting time.

And, I note, I have.

No doubt, you'll have heard of some of these, but bear with me, I guarantee you'll find something new.

Facebook. Of course it's on here. While it really should be noted it's more of a tie between Facebook and Youtube I know, what a surprise. Still, you lose uncountable hours to the two of them. I remain adamant, however, they aren't the worst.

Making a strong case for itself as the worst time waster of all time, Twingly is perhaps the prettiest thing on this list. I myself just spent twenty minutes staring at it. It's fantastic. I swear.

Pictures of your's truly. Because really, who doesn't love to get lost in those deep, deep, mysterious eyes of mine?

For the guys only: Women.

Not truly a waste of time, but given the insane amount of time we spend on you, it comes as no surprise how awful we do in other things. (I, for example, can't stop writing a small army of blog posts for a few pretty girls. Crazy, right?)

For the women (yes, you pretty girls reading this):

God, I haven't the foggiest what you people do in your spare time. Dream of me? Stare at pictures of me? Imagine making out with me? Think of new ways to be nice to me? Imagine new ways to hide your attraction towards me? Quite the mystery, feel free to clear that up in the comments.

Fin!~

SHANNON POST

I'm just paying tribute, she's the reason this damn thing was started. Didn't know that, didya?

There's nothing to report, though. Maybe I'll drop by Carondelet and say "Hi".

Blame Zak

Yeah, I'm taking a side. Now that that's out of the way, I'll get to blogging.

Zak and Conor have been in a HUGE argument which sparked from a bit of criticism on conor's part, directed towards zak's blog. Zak freaked out, much nerdrage followed. He decided someone had to leave the group and called for a vote. (FYI, this all took place on FB) fast forward a bit, zero progress has been made. Usual internet fighting, no one backs down or is listening to anyone else. Standard. Enter your favorite hero. In short, I played peacemaker, zak was a douche, so I voluteered to make him happy, and leave.

Enjoy your handywork, asshole.

To happier topics:

My dad's sister has cancer. (Boo Hoo.) She's a bitch. We move on now, because we really don't like her. Like, at ALL.

To move on, I spent the weekend at Scott's, where I didn't see stacy (which made me sad), but we did watch stargate and play a bunch of video games. I especially liked watching stargate. The vegas part was epic. It was fun, seeing him, a pleasant routine from before I moved. Still need to see stacy and AJ, however.

I was locked on my roof today, when I forgot to leave part of the window open. I stomped around ,waving at people and yelling at the garage beneath me until my dad noticed and he sent Cara up to open my window. It was fun.

It's not finished until you put down a comment.

I may or may not have been planning to post today,

But too much sh!t has been going on recently. So, apologies for the downbeat post, I'll throw in a bit of wit when I can.

Alrighty, I'll start close to home, what with an idiots' argument. By idiots (yes, plural) I'm referring not to zak and conor, but to zak and his ego. However, I refuse to take sides, and recognize that it couldn't have escalated the way it has without some contribution from conor. All the same, I almost completely take back what I said in the sentence previous and reckognize it's almost completely zak's fault.

Point is: Stop arguing! It pisses everyone off!

Now that that's out of the way, I watched an old movie today. Literally, 1973. Interestingly enough, it's set in 2173, which is still today the future. As you can see from the previous sentence, handling the tenses for this paragraph will be nothing short of hell. Fortunately, Danger is my middle name. (It is, in fact, Thomas, but never ask me about that. I can and will recite the proud heritage it marks). Anyway, Woody Allen was taken into surgery in 1973, but was frozen in cryo for reasons I missed completely. Then, later, he wakes up 200 years in the future-from-then (which would be 164 years from now) in 2173. Of course, the doctors who revived him did so because he isn't in the law books, but doing so was illegal. In short, he runs around, and does stuff, while falling in love with a hot chick from the 70's. Very funny.

What was I going on about? Interestingly enough, my mental checklist went like this: (No joke): Pedophilic monsters eating pretzels and nacho cheese was involved somehow stephen lynch?

What a fucked up mind I have.

Hailey DeWitt noticed me for the first time in a year, because I have a moped. Wonderful to know that my suspicions were correct, people care about my stuff. Which I can't blame them for, it's quite the thing. I mean, it's like, epic in scale. For clarity, of course, I'm talking about my !

Anywho, that's today's post. Now write a comment, or I'll put the medival weaponry in my room to good use.

I first wish to formally apologize to certain parties for the lack of cake,

as it was eaten at lunch.

Now that that's out of the way, allow me to introduce you to Officer Tony Keeler.

He was the police officer who pulled me over when I was riding home on my moped, after giving all of you joyrides. I was, as you recall, describing vividly to you all that no cop cared enough to pull me over, since it was completely illegal for anyone without a permit to be riding one of those things. I said you had to be 16, to be exact. Nope, you need a permit.

However, he let me off easy, since he thought I was a nice guy. Clearly, I was too busy freaking out to be the asshat I usually am. Or mayhap two years of improv actually did pay off. In all seriousness, though, he was really nice. I was in clear violation of the vehicle code, and he let me off with barely a warning.

He's also a member of the SWAT team here in WC.

So, in short, I was pulled over by a member of the swat team because it's illegal to go more than fifteen miles an hour on an electric bicycle unless you take a driving test for a vehicle completely different, a year an a half from now. I <3 American law.

The long and short of it is no more joyrides. Suck it up, peeps.

I'm pretty sure the world is out to prove me wrong, about everything. As soon as I voice an idea that I've come up with, I'm proven wrong, nine and a half times outta ten. For example, I tell people that Chris has been a dick recently, we get along great today. I think Conor's group is a great place to be, and Stephanie turns into a jerk.

Comments keep me warm at night.

November the 4th

Greatest fucking holiday ever invented, I say.

Hence the cake.

I brought a cake to school today, and handed it out to pretty girls. And Chris. And Sean. Point is, pretty girls. They got cake, I got hugs. A lot of hugs. It was fantastic. It was also, it should be noted, not my birthday. I was at home and I thought to myself,

"Self, since the girls have left, the party is over, and we already look as good as a bugatti veyron, we should bake a cake."

"Well, self," I said to myself, "Sounds like an excellent idea."

"Yes, I thought so."

"No, really. Bloody damn good."

"Oh, me, I'm to kind."

Ha ha ha, and whatnot.

In all seriousness, though, there was a cake. And there were hot chicks. And hugs from said attractive females. I daresay, life is good. Except for dudes not shutting up about it and almost getting lynched (twice, in fact), it was fantastic.

There's a new Sherlock Holmes trailer out, watch it here. Quite the film, I plan to see it.

Mayhap with someone... nah. To hell with that. Speaking of relationships, though, I spent the day with Conor's group, and pretty much everyone is hooked up. Except me. It appears, my friends, hell has frozen over. If I wasn't the godless heathen I remain, then I would yell at Jesus a bit. I am, though, so I'll yell at someone else.

Anyone interested in getting yelled at, gimme a ring.

On a final note, apologies for the short post yesterday. Comment, por favor?

Post #95

Holy effing shit.

And apparently, apparently, a dozen of you people read this. Why was I not told?

I mean, I think, as Walnut Creek's resident aspiring gearhead genius insane roommateless love therapist, I should be told that so many of you people read this thing. To be honest, though, I don't even know who some of you are. However, I think we can work through this and be great friends. To help all of you wonderful, well-off, intelligent people make wonderful friends, here's a mental checklist I use to make sure my friends are wonderful people:

(Make sure the answers to all these questions are "no", and you've found a friend!)

Pedophile?

Alright.

Pretty straightforward, right?

(No offense to any pedophilic members of the audience. I just don't think we'd get along too well.)

Made a cake. Getting it out of the pan and frosting it are not easy. And not fun.

I have almost nothing to post about. But I did just joyride on my moped, and it feels like its 9:30. It's 6:30. Still. What the hell, man. Winter screws my clock up.

Starting a new book, "Fool".

Been thinking, recently, about romance. Hence the cake. I'll be giving it to pretty girls. Why? Because I can. And cake is fun. Even when you wreck it. If it keeps going this way, I'm bringing a coffin to school tommorow. And it will be for the cake. I'll be holding a service at lunch, if it goes that way. If it doesn't, a dozen or so females (some hot, some I just owe cake) and maybe a dude or two (cuz as the saying goes, bro's before hoes).

Remember, children, the cake is not a lie.

A bit of a backstory on today's post..

Once upon a time, I got a book. On philosophy. In it, I remember reading about a man who theorized about society. In short, his theory can be exemplified by this: 1950's conformism led to the rebellious hippies of the 1960's, which then fused, leading to the fake hippies of the 1970's. Basically, everyone rebels one year, and then creates a compromise the next, which is then rebelled against.

As I wandered the kitchen, tonight, blowing off my math homework again, and making some dinner (a buttered bagel, to be exact), I thought, how do you rebel against society when the norm is to be rebellious? At first, I thought about tattle-tales, but then, contemplating it further, I figured the rebels wouldn't be impressed with your ultra-cool conformism. The answer hit me like a freight train: isolation. Emo peeps are trying to rebel.

Excuse me while I laugh.

I choked a bit, on my bagel. It wasn't so bad. I take that as universal confirmation that I'm right.

To move on, I recently admitted I believe two girls in my English class are hot (and not just those two) I have a feeling I'm going to regret that. Still, it's true. I like the truth.

Rode my moped again today. I still love that thing, but I'm dead-sure I can bike faster than that. Meaning I'm very slowly getting fat. I'm biking more often. Speaking of my moped, I was sitting on it, talking to halley and davey when I swore. I then remembered Davey hated that, as well as it being against his religion, and I apologized. Minutes later, I again, yelling out, "Fuck!" I then realized my error, and shouted, in fury, "damnit!" I thought that kind of thing only happened in movies.

Apparently not.

New format has been bothering me, does anyone feel the same?

I would love feedback, since I might change it. But if no one comments, I'll assume no one cares.

As such, comment! Comment!

Sometimes,

You hear references to us bloggers, as if it were lame.

To be honest, it sort of is, but hell, if you people keep getting a kick out of it, I'll keep writing this "high quality literary log of the life experiences of an enlightened individual" (or "junk", which sounds less interesting but more accurate.)

So, Halloween.

Allow me to express my feelings regarding holidays.

Hallmark exploits that sense of tradition and genuine experience that bothers me so deeply.

Then again, my dad is probably to blame. It's all his fault I'm the way I am.

In short, I'm a hippocrit, because hell, I do the same things as the rest of us sheeple. I just know it's rather idiotic of us. And, admittedly, I look better than a few of my compatriots, who shall remain unnamed.

As I sit here blowing off my geometry homework at 8:00, I remember what the hell this post was about.

HALLOWEEN.

Since you people can't tell, you should know it's been 40 minutes since I wrote anything. I had McDonalds, and I feel phatty. /wrists. (If link doesn't work, watch in HQ.) Anyway.

Halloween.

Chris's party.

After nearly missing it, I managed to avoid showing up late, on my batmoped. I brought my 360 along. Other people played on it. We hung out, first, listening to music, chilling , and waiting for everyone to show up. When they all finally got there, at 7, we did the exact same thing, waiting for it to be later, before we could trick or treat. Chris and Travis (google and yahoo, respectively) dueled with lightsabers, but the three musketeers (John, Luke, and Thomas) were late, so the plan went awry (they interrupted later. It was epic, but one of the swords broke.) We trick or treated, but half the peeps (ok, 40%, or specifically mike, austin, kurtis, and someone else) stayed at chris's to scare children. I daresay I approve, but it was fun. We ran into some peeps who knew the other guys from drama, and they all got hugs. I didn't. Goddamnit.

We also ran into Carlo. He got a hug.

So did I. :D

We went back to drop off the candy, and then went over to foothill to zombie tag the crap outta the place, but some hoebag adults (both female, both dressed like hoe's), told us they called the cops. False, and we could've gone back, but the guys were scared (who can blame em, really, but still...) so we didn't. Instead, people jacked my 360 and set up in chris's mum's room, while austin, chris, alex, and I watched hot fuzz. We had fun. They did too.

I slept over.

Chris and I watched Rent. It was epic. We also inhaled massive amounts of candy to ensure we had massive sugar-induced tripped-out dreams. I didn't, it sucked.

We woke up around 10, and played sims 3 and watched mythbusters, until we went and saw law abiding citizen.

HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS THAT WAS GODDAMN AWESOME.

That's all I have to say on the subject.

Uh, what else...

Not much, in fact. I hung out with Scott. As usual, we talked about World of Warcraft and Women for about two hours, catching up, and spent the rest of the time playing video games.

HARDCORE.

I bought borderlands. Fun.

Very.

I strongly dislike this typing style where

I randomly switch lines. It bothers me.

Still, I find it good for placing emphasis. Enough grammatical crap, I have Ms. "Sweet" for that. She got all cranky friday, which sucked, because I usually look forward to spending her class unwinding. She was pretty damn cranky, so I grabbed the bathroom pass and spent ten minutes wandering the halls (I was going to go to the bathroom, but I ran into Cara, so that was that.)

And that was that.

And now,

For my next trick, I fuck the shit out of my own leg, so much so the initial pain causes me to roll on the floor, not laughing.

God, it hurts.

Real post will be sunday, after chris's party. Apologies for the lateness on that one, but I think the posts I've been making nonstop will make up for that.

xo,

anthony.

Sweet Jebas Above,

SOMEONE ELSE BLOGGED!

If she hadn't dumped me (and I hadn't made it worse) I would love devon, just for that. However, she did, and I did, so I don't. Close, though.

To move on, today, in the course of a single conversation, by a single incredibly hot chick,I was told I have a sexy voice, with a british accent that reminds her of obi-wan kenobi.

It was single-handedly the greatest compliment I've ever recieved.

I also got laughs out of both her and her friend, because my amazingly odd family gives me some of the greatest party stories that I have in my repertoire. To the point though, I scored major points.

Sadly enough, both of them are taken and I don't want a relationship right now, but still, they're hot.

And to avoid being called a-person-who-objectifies-women, I shall now throw their names at you: Caroline and Katie.

So there?

Also, grabbed the last part of my costume today. I'll be wearing it at school tomorrow.

It will be epic.

48 Hours - To hell with the compass

(For those of you who've been here from the very beginning. Love to you all.)

As you may recall, the very first post I ever did was on a blog completely unlike this one. In fact, the only thing that's held true (aside from me writing this) is the adress in that there web bar. I recall, this was once known as East Coast Blog Project, or alternatively The East Coast Blog Project.

I remember the first post I ever did, shouting proudly to (interestingly enough) the most readers I've ever had (about eight?) Then again, I haven't the foggiest how many of you read this, though I'm reasonably assured plenty of people do. I shouted about confusing compasses, escapades with ex girlfriends, first kisses, parties, music, bets, finals, and whatever the hell I wanted. Which may be why people stopped reading it.

This blog has endured a hell of a lot, and seen more than a few people rise and fall as bloggers. Which reminds me, it never hurts to take up the reigns again, peeps.

Plenty of things have happened on this blog. I've quit (twice, but I never announced it), come back, ruined friendships, stayed up all night making ridiculously horrible posts that lack the quality I cling to, the quotable Cara Clarke and the reader favorite: Me.

It's quite alarming to me that now, after nearly 6 months, I'm approaching the 100 post mark.

Alarming.

So, in news, I got my bike back, it was thrilling, I felt beast, and can still do crazy shit on it. I'm blowing off my homework, and listening to Ain't No Rest for the Wicked. It's sweet.

Eddie wears eyeshadow. I can't get over this.

ANTHONY CLARKE

does EVERYTHING epic.

Wins, fails, etc.

Went out to get my halloween costume today. Since my original plan didn't go to well, I went with the backup, which will remain a surprise. I got most of it, all I need is a quick ten buck piece which me mum promised to get when she's out tomorrow.

I also grabbed a new shirt, which TARA all of you will see at school tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need to do my laundry. My dresser is empty, the pike is reaching proportions that are pretty damn epic.

Listening to Lux Aeterna now. Give it time, its a great track.

Erm, wow. Not much to blog about today.

Depending on how sane I am today, I may or may not have posted a post about the genius of bowl design. I'm pretty damn sure I did, but then again, I'm pretty damn nuts. Whatever.

In response to this, I think I'll blog about something badly designed.

(give me a moment to run down to the kitchen and play eenie-meenie-minee-moe.)

I did. I found nothing. The panic button has been smashed into the dashboard already, so I whacked the OTHER big red button.

In short, I hope none of you liked Russia.

Meanwhile, my sister found a car. Rather, my mom did, my sister loves it, and my dad is cautious. In short, though, I can see what you're saying.

"But what does this have to do with my favorite manly, rough-around-the-edges action man?"

"Well," I say, from the shadows, mysteriously, having already killed all the terrorists, defused the bomb and saved the hostages, "it means that should my parents come through, I could have my beloved batmoped by the end of the month." (Cue predictable and cliche, yet totally necessary, and oddly brief make out session with the heroine/lover/random female hostage).

(cue explosions.)

(cue ending.)

I tried to make hot chocolate

but I went upstairs, came back, the mic had finished, it'd sat there, cooling, so it was cold, spilled everywhere because the measuring cup is badly designed, the cocoa mix floated to the top of the milk, and when I stirred, more fell all over. It tasted nothing like chocolate or milk, since almost none mixed in, and it got on my foot.

This, along with mass effect, is roughly how my day went.

Then I went downstairs to print my english homework, and saw my dad. After a nice, long conversation, I felt fantastic, and am now upstairs, writing about it. Since this is off-schedule, I don't feel obligated to make this extra long.

So I won't.

Anthony Clarke

Notes the odd urges you get at 3 in the morning. I have, for example, just spent time trying to hack my old neopets account and started a new one. I also just got my zombie killing fix by owning an entire planet in Mass Effect, and was just listening to stephen lynch sing about nazi girlfriends.

Yeah, this day is going well.

We're all living in Amerika,

amerika is wunderbar...

So, I'm gonna go out on a limb, and make a few assumptions here.

First, you're excited. Look! A new blog post from your favorite tall, dark, and mysterious blogger! Next, you wonder what it could be about. Since homecoming was last night, you think, it'll probably have a section about homecoming in it, seeing as the greatest partier this side of the Mississippi wouldn't miss it to save his life. Then, you think about what it might read like. Assumedly, it'll be an exciting post where anthony breaks all kinds of barriers, making out with the hottest senior there (who'd be single, of course, because Anthony is such a class act), or taking the mic and singing the only decent song for the entirety of the dance.

Then you get to actually reading this thing.

While admittedly, I did dance, it took me multiple hours to actually get my hands around the waist of someone else, which bothered me. A lot. Regardless, it was nice, despite that the first one was just me saving mackenzie from some creeper. The second (and, admittedly, final) was me dancing with mackenzie again, but still, twas different.

In the course of the dance, I danced with mackenzie (see above), friends, pissed off devon, played ping pong, and didn't freak with anyone (despite chris and austin doing it with their respective choices for the night, goddammit.)

Lets start from the beginning. I took two showers, cleared off my face, and put on my best shirt in pants. I showed up at 7:15, looking classy on my moped (the batmoped/vespa). I walked up to the school, conversed with friends, and waited in an infinitely long line with chris and co. Oh, I also was wowed by a few dozen girls dresses. But I digress. While we waited in what will reach the pages of history as one of the great lines of the age, we sang twist and shout, because we could. While a certain douchenozzle nearby exclaimed his alarm in the form of an insult (because I definitely only arrived to get pussy. Way to generalize, you fucking asshole.)

On to the dance itself, yes?

Well, I went in. I danced. I wandered between groups for a while, but eventually got sick of geoff and gabby and stephanie and nick staring into each others and stopped leaving ian and co.'s group. Speaking of that argument with sean (who couldn't make it)'s group (as I call it) , it's one of the things Devon said to me. See, I was wandering (pre dancing with any females that night) and she and I collided (not physically). She talked about that (as I recall?) and then talked about what an awful day she was having. I consoled her, and then she was (before I go any further, this is from memory. My quotes should be accurate to the word, but I may mix her actions up) talking about it again, and I patted her on the shoulder, saying "aww, poor devon. Dance?" And indicated the mosh pit that was the dance floor. In response, she said nothing (may have let off an exasperated sigh), turned, and walked off. So yeah, devon's ticked at me.

So, I danced with Ian and co, chris dropped in rather often (the first two hours, that is. The last he spent entirely with allie, which I can't blame him for.) Recall that whole change bit in lip sync? Where the two guys where up there, and each would dance and pass it to the other guy? We did that. I felt mine was awful, but chris consoled me. (to be clear, in that case "we" means travis, ian, chris, carthac, others, and I.) So that was fun. At some time or another (timeline is unclear) I played ping pong with carthac, kurtis, katie, and her friend. Me and carthac and kurtis had one end, the girls had the other (oh yeah, austin was on that side. Unrelatedly.) So, yeah. Then came dancing with mackenzie, 2.0, humor, other people grinding, and the end. After the dance, I rode off on me moped, sufficiently scaring the crap out of some upperclassmen (I think), and then waited three minutes to call chris, to avoid ruining the moment. He was too chivalrous for a kiss, though he wanted one from allie.

So, that was the dance.

Came home, nicki and priv arrived later, and there was much partying. As I graced safeway with my barefoot presence, I'm convinced the parking lot gave me swine flu monkey aids. I did get a monstrous home-grown shirley temple, which priv made. Twas delicious. According to priv, the massive amounts of sugar made me forget that I told him that I made out with someone else's girlfriend and almost got in a fight. If I did, good job me, I hope it was worth it.

Today, I hung out at home, since scott was busy, didn't get a halloween costume (is it so hard to find a priest top?), and spent a bit of time with priv, nicki, and their friend danielle (mark arrived later) watching megan fox 2, and had much fun.

Oh, and I wrote one of the longest post's I've ever made.

(so comment, for christ's sake.)

I frigging love my dad.

So much.
Really.

Best dad ever.

United States of Whatthefuckery.

I declare myself president.

Look, if a damn cruise line can do it, so can I. Now excuse me, I'm going to stand on me roof.

I'm back. I said Hi to my sister's boyfriend while I was up there. I also noted how nice it smells. Like a barbecue, minus the meat. So... smoky. Very nice, if I do say so myself.

Rode home on me pink bike today, and even after recieving crap from the juniors in my chem class about it, it was fun. Halley stole it, briefly.

Just talked to a chick from da east, sharon, and she's a commie.

Still, PANTS. Too many tests this week. two on friday, one math one geography. Expecting a chem one as well.

I hate chem.

Homecoming friday, need to get my ticket. Fast. I also don't have a school I.D.

Hey, remember when everyone had a blog? Devon, eric, ian, austin, everyone, even little ole' me, had one. Now I'm the only one who updates it. Oh, shannon had one too. I still have the link to the emo garbage. I cruise it sometimes, but she doesn't update it.

Mr. Dorado is a lot nicer now. I like him, he learned to teach after we taught him how to. He was also nice to Chris, which may have influenced my decision a bit.

So, that wraps up today's post.

I hope hell is a pants-free zone.

Those of you with eyes will have noticed the new layout.

Those of you without them, how are you reading this?

Are you an alien? Could an alien read this? Would it be interesting to those aliens who may or may not read this?

Regardless and furthermore, you may have noticed the new title, as well.

Oddly enough, this has been one of the drearier weekends, and I haven't done anything but get ticked at Scott, and play xbox all day. I did have an INCREDIBLY nice morning though. I slept in. :D

Friday was a bit more interesting, what with Alisa Pokrovsky wanting to know if I still liked Devon, me bothering Devon about it, her claiming she had nothing to do with it (but hell, as we've seen, I can't read a pretty face to save my life. If a guy lies, I catch it. Female? Not so much. >.<) Devon then went on to say she was glad I didn't like her, and I can't remember exactly why, but it rather ticks me off. (Read as: MAH EGO! OH NOES! D:)

I also didn't do very well on an essay which I didn't finish (I would've done better if it wasn't short periods), and went halfway to flunking on the back of a Spanish test (Mr. Dorado can't teach).

Aside from that and daydreaming about babes while I was in english, I rode home on a large, pink, townie bicycle, and received more complements than normal, even for me. Corn asked about it, so I started reciting gettysburg adress, and when she pointed out that this was that, I said, "Well, if it isn't that, I haven't the foggiest." And rode off. I also passed by another biker, a junior in my chem class, on the way home, and got such a confused look it made my day. Day well spent.

I'm seeing zombieland tommorow. While I'm there, someone plan a party for me. Deal?

Now this is a story,

All about how,
My life got flipped-turned upside-down,
and I'd liked to take a minute, just sit right there,
and I'll tell you how I became unsure about what the hell I'm doing.

Tell me, does that make you fantasize about me?

No?

Well, screw that then.

Lemme try again:

I drive a motorcycle and once wrestled a bear with my bear hands in a burning building, shirtless.

Still no?

Well, how about this:

I'm bat-shit insane, like video games, am moderately muscular, listen to music like its going out of style, love fast cars, junk food, and parties.

Eh? Eh?

Do tell.

I posted this not because I haven't the slightest to report, but because I dislike being single, and this is incredibly entertaining to me. Got my old xbox working today, and feel bad about posting such boring things.

Tossing around the idea of learning to play an instrument. I would love to play guitar, but it seems so complex. I took piano, once, waaaay back. Dunno, thoughts?

Spending too much time on comp. Should stop.

And now, to finish, a poem from Rayne Summers.

(Why? Because I can.)

Retro

That is, old things. My dad, dinosaurs, the look of the Weissman Roadster, the song I mentioned last post, old posts (some of which were retracted), old girlfriends, etc.

Some of you may see where I'm going with this.

As I listen to I can't smile without you, my mind (against my will) drifts to the worst post I ever made, arguably the worst possible: So, Devon. Now, this was taken down, but my mind is on it in light of the unexpected truth: she's still angry at me.

So, as I listen to the worst possible soundtrack for it, shirtless, on a bed, I wonder how I could apologize. Since she really seemed genuinely ticked. Now, I have no problem with jerks hating me, but she isn't a jerk. Christ, I apologize if this seems sappy. Listen to the song, it's not my fault how this post is. But enough of this.

Let's move on, shall we?

Today was my first day.

In short, it was good.

In length, people are overjoyed I'm back, and I'm overjoyed because I can use it to get girls to hug me. Hey, it feels nice, so sue me. :P PE is awesome, as is english, and the rest of my classes are prettymuch not so fun. Spanish, we learn nothing, cuz the teacher sucks, chem is confusing, geo I haven't had yet, (I threw a wrench at the system, just go with it) and geometry makes me want to kill myself (fucking proofs. >.<).

So, yes. Devon's ticked at me, school is fun, some girl who I think is named Corn hates me and bit me, so, whatever.

Death by tray it shall be!

Oh, California...

"Oh, Anthony..."

"Baby, it's so great to be back."

"I'm so glad you're back."

"Baby, I let me put my feelings into a song...

You know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything
You see I feel sad when you're sad
I feel glad when you're glad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile without you

You came along just like a song
And brightened my day
Who would have believed that you were part of a dream
Now it all seems light years away

And now you know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything
You see I feel sad when you're sad
I feel glad when you're glad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile

Now some people say happiness takes so very long to find
Well, I'm finding it hard leaving your love behind me

And you see I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything
You see I feel glad when you're glad
I feel sad when you're sad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile without you."

"Oh, Anthony, how sweet..."

"You know it's true, California, stay with me forever. California, will you... marry me?"

"Oh, Anthony! Yes!"

(Insert making out here).

Good evening, fellow Californians. I'm back. And I wanted to add that special touch to this post. Hence the song. Don't worry, I still have content. Ish.

I really am listening to I can't smile without you. After watching hellboy 2, its just nice to listen to. Plus, I love this state. I may hate the douchebags that apparently make up 52% of our population, and the supreme court judges, but I do love the rest of you guys. <3's all around. As many of you know, I'm back, and heading to Northgate. But let's sort out the rest of this, shall we?

FAQTATHOOM: (Frequently Asked Questions That Annoy The Hell Out Of Me)

Why are you moving back?

Because Cara is better at convincing people than me, apparently. I also suspect that my Dad had something to do with it. To move on:

So why did you move to Massachussetts for a month and then just move back?

This is the worst of the bunch. In detail: We moved because Nicki needed in-state tuition for UMass at Amerherst and my mom friggin loves the cape. So we tried living there, and it royally sucked. Cara and I made this no secret, and mum gave in and moved us back. There.

So when can I see you?

Well, depends on the day, but if you're within about 2 miles, and there aren't any obstructions, you should be able to see me. As for getting together, throw me a party with at least 10 people, set it up on a date I can do, and I'm in. Unless they're all douchebags.

FAQTDSSH: (Frequently Asked Questions That Don't Suck So Hard)

What's you're schedule?

Ask me when I have it in my hand. Its a lot of work to type out, sorry. I'll show you soon, promise.

Dude! How will I survive without you here?

Keep eating, breathing, avoid drugs, try and keep the drinking to a minimum, and if you plan to do something you might regret, either don't do it or make it too fucking awesome to matter.

So how was the plane ride?

Alright, but my friggin headphones broke. That sucked, and so did the seating. Food was good, and so was the TV.

Single yet?

Oddly enough, yes. Are you hot?

And on that irreverent bombshell, I end this. See you all very, very soon. :)

So, "The Middle" is playing right now.

And everything's gonna be alright.

Yeah, legitly.

Lets lay out the problem:

I live in Massachusetts.

Well, I'm MOVING BACK. After a two-month stint here in what I'm told is the most liberal state in America, I realized it sucks here. Badly. People are still assholes, and I've found only a few (a single table!) people here who aren't. So, after Cara miraculously convinced my mom that it REALLY sucks here, we're moving back.

HALLE-GODDAMN-LUJIAH.

I can only summarize my feelings in a very, very fun word: EUPHORIA!

Okay, to break it down, (currently listening to beethoven's 5th, by the way). Cara convinced mum, mum said we're moving back either three weeks from now or on Monday. Enrolling at Northgate. One last thing:

Should I rename and keep posting, keep the name and keep posting, or stop altogether?

BEETHOVEN'S 5TH!

and, more importantly,

I'M COMING BACK TO CALIFORNIA!

HTMYHGEOMA

As in, "Holy Tits My Heart's Gonna Explode Out of My Ass." This relates to something later, I swear.

Hell, I'll get to it now.

Gears of Halo Theft Auto 6: Salvation Army Edition.

I warn you: not for the faint of heart.

To move on. I dumped Jenny. Okay, she dumped me. But I was GOING to dump her. She texted me, an hour and a half before I could dump her face to face. Damnit, I avoided doing it by text because that's the pussy way out.

Since this is off schedule, its short. I promise, the scheduled ones will be better. Don't worry. :D

So, I met this girl, Jenny.

But, being an aspiring gearhead, I'll get to that later.

First off, recall that just last post I named my dream car. The delightful Audi A4 Diesel Quattro.

Screw that.

New dream:The Weissman MF3.

God, that's beautiful. And it handles, corners, rides, and drives like a dream. I'm going to get one, one day. Promise. That's too great to pass up. Any gearhead readers have any thoughts?

Saw Surrogates. Great movie, Bruce Willis rocks. Not The Dark Knight good, but close to District 9.

So. Jenny.

Quick rundown:

She's an 8th grader, 13, rides the bus I do, and goes to the middle school connected to Chatham High (which I grace with my presence). She's cute, she's smart, and I haven't found much disagreeable about her personality, either. Just a single problem, which some of you may note. Her age isn't acceptable by the rule of age (your age, halved, plus seven is the minimum acceptable dating age), until I'm 16. A bit long, considering she asked me out. And I said yes. Yes, rejoice, I got meself a new ball and chain. Any thoughts on that?

Or how incredibly charming I am?

Well, that's all. Good night, everyone.

Quick note: New posting schedule: Each Tuesday and friday/saturday (depending on scheduling).

LA LA LA LA LA

I guess it's all about the dream.

So, as per your suggestion, I shall now post.

Before I do that, though, I have to apologize. One hell of a week. I mean it. Not to much interesting junk (well, I think I just turned agnostic. Or atheist? More on that later.) But tons of schoolwork. Which I'm blowing off, for now. To wit:

You can recognize people of certain groups, ironically, by those they do not:

Protestants don't recognize the pope.
Jews don't recognize Jesus.
Baptists don't recognize each other at the liquor store.
(So I'm a dick. I don't hate any of the people mentioned here, and whatever. If you were offended, send me a letter, so I have some kindling for the wood stove down here.)

I'm not even kidding, I should use that thing. It gets cold at night.

Hey, so my 360 gets here tommorow, according to UPS, because I wasn't here to sign for it at 2 on friday. I bought ODST and another copy of dead space anyway, leaving me with $40 to my name. Working on that...

Today, I thought I would bring up that old riddle: which came first, the chicken or the egg?

Creationists might say: God created chicken, which laid the first egg. The answer is the chicken.
Evolutionists might then retort: nay! There was a creature much like the chicken, which then laid the first egg, which had mutated just enough to be the creature we now know as chicken. And furthermore, your faith is ridiculous! "I tell you that your wife is cheating on you, or yogurt makes a man invisible, you'd require proof. But if I told you that the book in your nightstand drawer was written by an invisible diety who will punish your soul in fire for all eternity if you fail to believe its every fantastic claim, you require no proof at all!" (this not quite word-for-word quote taken from The End of Faith.)

(before I go any farther, know I have no problems with the church. I feel like a jerk for posting that, but I'm sure there's beer in hell. I genuinely apologize to anyone insulted, and know I will take this down if anyone's pissed at me.)

At this point, the Evolutionists are hauled off the stage for being politically incorrect. Freedom of speech and the second amendment seem like a joke waiting to happen.

I myself am an evolutionist, but I figure god has something to do with something, or at the very least its comforting to think. Hence, agnostic? I don't know if I'm comfortable being an atheist, so...

You know what? Fuck it all. Religion is just an argument waiting to happen, and there's nothing the freemasons can do about that.

Let's talk about something more joyous, shall we?

I'm a gearhead. I LOVE cars. To no end. I even have myself a dream car (that I might oneday actually get) an Audi A4 V6 diesel quattro. Why? Because it's goddamn beast. Granted, if I ever get one, I'm gonna have to be rich. Really rich. Or get a deal. We'll find out, shan't we?

Barring that, I'd go with a Daihatsu Materia (because its fuck-cheap) or a real car, somewhere in between my beloved Audi and the realistic Daihatsu.

I can't seem to find that car that has the right mix of speed, looks, comfort, and power that I'm looking for, with the singular exception of the Chrysler 300C sitting in the driveway about 10 feet above me. I love that car, and have been promised once I learn to drive on Jim-Bob, our beloved 14 year old volvo, its mine. Praise Jesus.

There you go folks!

Enjoy the goodness!

Hey.

I was just wondering what could've possibly possessed you guys to find this enjoyable? I still don't get it, and no one comments. Is there like a secret anti-comment club? I don't like that club. And I don't even know if its real.

So, not much has happened recently. I mean, plenty will, so keep checking back (if that's your thing.) But not much now.

However, for a while, I've been sitting on this. Enjoy:

Recently, I realized the ingenious design of bowls. Note the gently sloping, curved sides, humbly making your morning cereal a pleasure to behold. As less and less material is left inside your bowl, it takes up less and less space, which the bowl so happily provides. As such, that period of time when you scrape around the bottom of the bowl is reduced to a minimum, letting you enjoy the morning paper, news, or (god willing) quiet.

And on the note of cereal: allow me to settle the old parable: It's cereal, AND THEN milk. If you put in milk and then cereal, the cereal just floats on the top and doesn't aquire proper wetness, making them undesirable.

As long as we're solving riddles, allow this:

If a man tries to fail and succeeds, which has he done? He's proven murphies law. Anyone familiar with the law, think about trying to prove it and you'll see the connection. Anyone not, it can be found here. It also proves that humans are basically jerks, and will try to be clever through word games. To quote xkcd: Being misunderstood and smug about it isn't being clever. If you've never read xkcd, click the link. Have at it. He's hilarious. Read a few.

Back? Good.
I was beginning to worry.

Sadly, you took so long I must depart, but on this parting note:

October 8th. Think about it, Californians.

Okay, shortie.

Go and interrupt taylor swift again. I DARE you. (I don't care, I just love the meme. Plus, this was supposed to be short.)

So guys, here's the thing. I sometimes wonder why all of you read this, when its a poorly written, witty (admittedly), glorified journal, with the occasional bit of borrowed insight or humor. Comment?

To move on, what if I began doing bits of news? (And vlogging. I really like the concept, but I'd have to share the webcam. Urgh.) Like the whole kanye/taylor swift bit, or upcoming games, or the latest GOP conspiracy theory ("we're all going to be commies!")? It seems like it might eventually get to the point where I get a few more readers. Which would please my ego.

Then again, the chances of getting attention on the internet are about as likely as defying rule 34. That noted, it would be really, really nice. Of course, it would also make me post more often and stop blowing this off. Working on it, I swear.

In other news, I dodged going out of the house today, took over the galaxy one and a half times, and got my ass dumped! Again. Read on!

So, didn't want to leave the house today. I was, actually, sick, and I was just feeling really tired, so I went the fatass route, played my cards, and stayed home. Cara, I'm sorry. In the course of my staying home, mum saw me phone, thought it was nicki's, and took it. I then missed all the calls from me (now former) girlfriend, sabrina.

But while I missed all of that moaning (she was a bit whiney. I'd been contemplating it on and off all day.), I took over the universe in Galactic Civilizations 2, Dread Lords. The game is incredibly complex, and very, very fun. And never lacks replayability. I reccommend it for any nerds out there. Like kyle, my best friend (out here. Not my best in the whole wide world. That goes to chris. Sorry, everyone.). And if you like that, you'll definitely like my new background. I call it pimp 66. (I have a new hope you'll get it.)

So anyway, after beating that a few times, cruising the net, watching Top Gear and parts of Waiting... and chilling all day (it was GLORIOUS.) The family came home. Minutes later, Sabrina called. She was ranting about how I clearly liked her friend (minda, milda, something like that.) at which point I was getting so annoyed I was considering dumping her. I got another call, later, walking around outside (me mum thought I was meeting someone. It was suspicious. Take a call outside, ask to go for a walk... whatever.) She called back, later, and we talked a bit more. It was boring, and not going anywhere, so I faked being busy and hung up, with no more than a gotta go as a warning. She called back, maybe a half hour ago, and dumped me. Well, damn. My only regret is not making out with her. (Goddamnit.) So that was that. I can now enjoy the fruits of Rule 34, unburdened by guilt. :P

TROLLING!

Being a raging dick to people on the net!

I still REALLY wanna go and troll the crap out of the twiloser forums. Can't bring myself to, though. Maybe its cause I'm so sweet to everyone all the time, such a fantastic, great guy, such a wonderful person, (5' 10'', with brown hair, shining brown eyes, and no one to be with, who likes long walks on the beach, making out, movies, and the occasional dash of anarchy. Call me.) that I just want to do something bad for once. Or twice. Or every weeknight at eight, for hours.

World First!

I was drinking orange crush, out of the bottle like normal, when I thought, "What if instead of tipping the bottle back, I put it down and sucked the drink out?" Well, I tried. And DAMN, that's a workout. It took two breaths. I mean REALLY, that's harder than it looks.

Was going to cover something else, but I forgot it.

It's talk like a pirate day! Arrrr!

As a pirate, this just means I can laugh at all of your guys's funny accents.

Speaking of accents, been working to make the british one I supposedly have be more pronounced. Why? Because I have to attract more ladies now. Duh.

OH, and since I haven't mentioned it, she dumped me cause she doesn't want to ruin her friendship with the friend who likes me, and because she's not ready for a relationship right now. Whatever.

Tell your friends! Even the bad ones! Quality over quantity means nothing if I don't have any readers!

Please?

I've been sitting on parts of this for a while, you know.

Yeah, the idea for the "Proof I spend to much time on the internet" article came to me all the way back when I was on the road trip. To move on.

Spent some time reading MLIA today. I am now determined to pull a few stunts before I clear out of this state (I will, one day, come back to Cali. And there will be parties.) I'm thinking grabbing kyle, getting a few lightsabers, and making fools of ourselves in public. Why? Because it will be amongst the most interesting things to happen here since the Civil War. (NOTHING happens in Chatham.) That, or somehow getting bohemian rhapsody onto the school intercom.

To move on, today I realized I really have been spending too much time on the internet since my 360 broke. For those of you who are skeptics, allow me to explain:

I once saw a sign for a nail salon, entitled "Pretty Nails." At first glance, I thought it said "Pretty Nazis." I saw a Jiffy Lube station and my thoughts flashed to sex. And I might be the only person alive to note how increasingly erotic the ads for Evony, a new MMO, are. They started with some bad photo of a lady in a circlet and a big green dress, changed to a modern-day chick in a white shirt, with a bit of a chest, and now its a blonde, lying down, with a black bra on. I can't see what this has to do with their slogan, "Start your journey now, my lord." With a single exception: the journey is into her vagoo (any LICD readers will get that).

To move on. Today, in history, we were talking about industrialization. Then some genius brought up war. The next 45 minutes were spent discussing nukes, war, WW2, pearl harbor, bunkers, and the diary entry of a certain bomber pilot, eventually leading to the discussion of M1 Abrams tanks. God I love history.

Sabrina's friend is a bit to... involved with our relationship, for my liking. I'm told she likes me, but apparently my gigantic hands are too big for her. I can only come to one conclusion. It really is true, you know what they say about guys with big hands. Regardless, I've dealt with friends who are involved before. As I recall, the last one to be involved like this now screams if I touch her, (I mean like an annoying poke, nothing sick.) or says ew if I'm nearby. Needless to say, the training paid off.

I also sent my 360 in for repair recently. A few days later, (that is, two) I got an email saying it had been recieved. 24 hours later, repair was done, and its being shipped back. God, thats one thing they can do fast.

I would like to nominate myself for president. and a nobel peace prize. And Obama's liason to the adult film industry (wait, what?).

WASSUP, BITCHES.

I dunno, I have urges. Suffice to say it means nothing.

Good aftermorenight, my faithful readers (what readers? I bet that I haven't gotten a single hit in the last 48 hours. If only people COMMENTED, then I would know I was WRONG.)

To move on. Remember sabrina? Yeah, its official. I basically, at the UNENDING PRODDING of her ANNOYING friend, went up and asked her if she wanted to do anything this weekend (not that I needed encouragement, we both knew we were going out already. Jesus god, lady) . Oh, and the secret? Its a secret from her mother. I can't say I blame her, my own doesn't know a goddamn thing about this.

On an unrelated note, I like british things. I want to move to britain when I'm older. Thoughts?

Speaking of british things, fell in love with the new bugatti veyron. It's the fastest car ever. That thing could beat a F1 with its 8-liter, V16 engine. And the 1005 HP that comes with it. And the 10 radiators used to cool it.

Thinking about a new posting schedule, would anyone be opposed to a less-than-each-and-every-day post schedule? Like every other day? Just a thought.

Also, just got a $25 itunes card. What kind of music should I get? I like rise against, nickelback, the foo fighters, MCR, MSI, and sum 41. Reccommend something.

Remember how I said since I skipped yesterday this would be long as hell?

Forget that. You'll (hopefully) understand in a moment.

First off, I'm sick. As hell. I think its allergies stacked on top of a cold, because damn. I mean, more green stuff has come out of my nose than I think is possible, due to a few laws of physics. In short: I feel like SHIT.

Also, I decided (okay, caved into my mother's extreme campaigning) to try out the martial arts at the gym. After an hour and a half, pads or no pads, I felt awful. Fine, but then we stopped, and my brain kicked in and met a small army of protests from my body. God, it hurt. Old guys kick hard. Real hard.

So, in short, I apologize for this pathetic excuse for a post, since I think my head will explode soon.

Goodnight, and may you have a better day than I did.

I almost regret posting this...

Since it means I can never have 69 posts ever again.

A moment of silence.

On the note of odd things, a word of advice: never contemplate insanity while listening to sum 41 and looking at a visualizer. Crazy ass shit, man.

Speaking of software, I overhauled my laptop today. Added rainmeter, skinned the crap out of it, added a new backround, downloaded and set up winamp, got itunes sharing to work (sorta) on my comp, and set up mobile blogging for my cell phone.

On top of all the digital stuff, I built a nightstand.

Speaking of which, I have a shirt that says "one nightstand" with a picture of the furniture piece right above it.

Moving on (I don't think I've ever done a post without saying that. Hmm.)

Spent 6 hours on the comp today, and several watching TV. Really, a relaxing day, until I didn't have the house to myself anymore. I really like having the house to myself. Its so nice to not have to deal with anyone. So of course, nicki or cara could be here, and it would be (about) the same, since its not like we spend each minute in each other's hair. No, we're pretty relaxed.

Also spent some time on facebook, lied about cruddy internet connections to get out of talking with people, and speaking of facebook, guess what: someone has already decided to tell me that seeing sabrina is a bad idea. To quote someone I suspect of either being a) a hurt ex boyfriend, or b) right, and trying to help the stupified cali boy, "dont talk to sabrina!!!!!!!!!! never talk to sabrin shes fat ugly gross bitchy and a huge drama queen stop now."

Of course, my witty, and well worded reply "Uh, what?" convinced that guy to back off. "Never mind do wat u want". All direct quotes. I still don't know who its a secret from. Should it be from y'all? I suppose taking down the last post won't do much, so whatever.

I was also assured by a certain reliable source that all of you comment in your heads. Remember, I can't enjoy your heads. Well, in a way, but my head hurts too much for the gutter. Curb it is, I suppose.

In other news, had first contact with half brother in years recently. I threw a "happy birthday!" On his facebook page (since it was his b-day. duh.) and he responded, "aw, thanks little bro." I am also assured he is a much better person than I may have lead certain people to think. Apologies to those caught up in that.

Also, for anyone having trouble with itunes sharing, I reccommend winamp. When you use sharing, and something won't import, use winamp's add media feature, and look through the itunes files (file -> add media -> music -> itunes -> itunes music -> the artist -> the album). It doesn't always work, but I'm having some success with it.

That's our show, be sure to tune in tommorow, for the amazing adventures that come with building a futon and my family's company. Goodnight!

woo! mobile blogging!
I'm just testing this out, to see how it goes.

The two hunters crawl through the bush...

and see the thriving metropolis of... this place?

Apparently, I've been discovered, or something. We have Ellis Lanksder with the reason behind this. Wondering what I'm talking about? My hit counter has some kinda thing, says I got 11,900+ hits.

I'M BAAAAAAACK!

Wait, seriously? None of you missed me? D:

So, I apparently missed my minutes of fame, or whatever, but I'll blog away nonetheless.

So, School. Yes, I have friends! (like shannon alleged she does, but I'll get to that later.) Kyle and parker and jack and will and nick and joe and a few others who's names I seriously don't know. Awkward...

To move on, we have ridiculously long classes, and only four of them each day. Still, LONG. But fun, since the teachers are impossibly relaxed here. When's the last time you spent half your history class discussing off-topic junk because the discussion drifted that way? Or the teacher opened up the day by noting that everyone made fun of kyle, and then conceded when you pointed out he deserved it (if you're reading this, then YOU DO. MY NAME IS ANTHONY, NOT ANTIONETTE. I WILL END YOU.)

That last sentence reminded me of sabrina. (christ, I'm going to regret posting this if she ever see's this. Or possibly not. Hell, do I even care?) See, she's this impossibly hot girl who I'm apparently dating. See, we were secretly dating, but then she told a bunch of people, and I found out. Apparently, it was only a secret from me. Hell, she's beautiful, funny, and gives me hugs. Life is going well on that front.

Argued with shannon a bit (or a lot). She'd somehow been given a computer during detention, and went on facebook. We talked, we argued, I won. Well, she left when I was about to win. Same diff, right? She was a tad emo about it, saying how she shouldn't talk to me because it hurts me (I said annoys. ANNOYS, shannon, ANNOYS.) And I know I'm right about this one, friends don't say I love you to each other, am I right? (Agree with me, then I definitely win the argument. That's what the argument was about, by the way.)

Listening to rise against and (who saw this coming) the foo fighters recently. Bought the entirety of There is Nothing Left to Lose, a FF album, and have listened to Appeal to Reason by Rise Against at least three times in its entirety. I reccommend "entertainment," which is my favorite, I think.

Still addicted to orange soda. Tastes pretty bad after so effing much.

Now, a morality question: would it be wrong of me to post the adress of shannon's emo blog, or should I not? Moreover, will she read this and take it down?

Whoa, just got hit by the fact that its the weekend. Life's good.

Gonna get a job when I turn 15. Not cuz I'm saving up, or anything (but hell, I should) but rolling in cash now would be really convenient. Plus, some dude a few roads over is selling a go kart for $500. Worth it.

Ran a bit today, realized lack of biking has put me in laughable condition. Sure, I could kick someone into oblivion, but I can't run anymore. Need to work on that, so: Should I take up biking, head to the gym, or take up martial arts again? Or should I wait till march, and just sail? Or just deal with it?

-Anthony.

Semi-Regular Basis

I think school will give me something to write about, so expect more posts coming post thursday. I'm hoping to get back to my one a day, but it is high school. Whatever.

I read today. and read. and read. Ten (eight) hours. Ten (eight) of them. TEN. And only 200 pages? Damned if I know, but I have fifty left. For this book alone. Shoot me.

To move on~

So, there was this girl that I liked. But she lives on the other side of the country. And last night, we were texting, and she found out. Well, she doesn't like me. In short, rejection. The friends with benefits project is long-term, and still going.

So, I thought about arguing a bit recently. So I thought I would make like a gaming cheat site and make a guide. Here goes:

ANTHONY THOMAS CLARKE'S EXTENSIVE AND AWESOME GUIDE TO ARGUING.

1. Point out things that both parties already know.
"You cheated on me!"

2. Be honest (or at least tell half truths, since if you can throw a few supportive facts, they'll give up.)

"Yes, but I thought you were dead! I went to your funeral!"

3. Despite point 2, lying is totally acceptable, if you can get away with it.

"But I sent you a package in the mail, containing that vase right over there!"

4. Physical violence (slapping, man-pride injury of any sort (except biting), and punching are all acceptable) is okay, but don't beat someone. That's just mean.

"That's a lie!" *slap*

5 a). Insults are a great way to win when the facts aren't on your side.

"You bitch!"

5 b) False oaths are fantastic as well, since they make it oh so clear that the fault is all the other partie's, and now they've gone too far.

"I never want to see you again! I hope you die!"

6. This seemed funnier in my head too...

>.<

G'night.