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.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, November 23, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
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).
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).
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
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?
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?
Monday, November 9, 2009
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!~
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!~
Sunday, November 8, 2009
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".
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.
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.
Friday, November 6, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
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?
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?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, November 2, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
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.
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.
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