Friday, June 18, 2010

Dear Readers,

Happy July 11th!

It's not July 11th? I'll just leave this up until I'm right, then. 

P.S. Props if you know what this is from. Read that for a while.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Again, I Should Be Doing Math-Related Things

I'm really bad at the studying bit, apparently.

To the point:

"Copy this into your status and see what people rate you ;(1)Crazy (2)Wish we went out(3) Talkative(4) Sarcastic (5) Love-able (6)Sexy (7)Strong (8)Dumb (9)Spoiled (10)Mouthy (11)Wild (12)Goofy (13)Funny (14)Awesome (15)Amazing (16) Beautiful (17)Cute (18)Drama queen (19) Best-friend (20)Want to get to know you better. Rate me(:"

Halley, one of my favorite (read: few) readers, sent me This fucking hilarious article recently, and since then I've been thinking about how awesome it was, and how in the hell it could've possibly reminded her of my terrible writings. God, the writer is a comedic genius. And when I saw the crap posing as the second paragraph on my facebook homepage today, I thought, "Shit, look, another way to not study!"

So here I am. And in light of the fact I've re-read To the Contrary, Anon like, fifteen times this week, I'm going to rock out a point-by point rebuttal of that cliche crap.

Before I go any farther, you should know that despite my death-grip-strength embrace of technology, I'm sort of old fashioned in some ways. I still use proper grammar, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of abbreviations in everyday speech, and I hate talking about anything of importance in any other medium than face-to-face. So know that that'll be one of the biggest problems I have with this from the start.

[(1)Crazy] Alright, insanity. Thing is, they don't mean crazy as in schizo'; they mean crazy as in the kind of crazy guys talk about when they say it as a part of their ideal girl, that is, some high amounts of energy whenever they want it. So criminal misuse of one term, check.

[(2)Wish we went out] Oh, shit. This is sooooo too early in the list. Remember a fucking paragraph ago, when I said you shouldn't say anything of importance in any other medium than face to face? Well, shit. You're so fucking wimpy you're telling someone you like them via fucking FACEBOOK COMMENT. God, you suck so hard you could keep up with your mother.

[(3) Talkative] I think you're talkative. What the fuck do you say to that? You can't turn that into a joke, it's just a kind way of saying you never shut the fuck up. And like those douchebags on formspring, you're probably just as bad. God, I hate formspring. And idiots who emulate it on facebook.

[(4) Sarcastic] I absolutely love this one. It's definitely not an opening for a long-ass conversation where everyone is sarcastic and it's so horribly unfunny that I can't even rock out the four or five sentences I usually put down.

[(5) Love-able] I could write this bit entirely about that goddamn hyphen. Why do you need it? What's wrong with writing loveable? For that matter, why are you writing it in the first place? Why can't you say you want to ask them out, it's halfway to the same thing only this is slightly more acceptable for the rejected creeper that follows around the kind of whore who posts this as their status to say, even though it's still creepier than fuck.

[(6)Sexy] Okay, here's where the whore-dom really takes over. Sexy? Really? If you're asking people if you're sexy, chances are you're a whore. No seriously, you /never/ see non-whores do this. Except jokingly, and even then it's kind of whore-ish. Fucking whores, they were supposed to stay on formspring.

[(7)Strong] Man whores need not ask. They already take fourteen steroids and go to the gym and think they're so fucking boss. Or they're asking about it emotionally, which probably means they're the kind of guy who wears shirts that he hates to be 'ironic' (which it isn't), and plays bass in a band which is, like, 'totally about to get a record deal because my uncle knows this one guy...', and in which he does backup vocals for the songs he co-wrote about how much he hates his fast-food job which he's stuck in because he failed high-school because he didn't try because he was 'too special' for school, and 'no one understood' and... fuck, you get the point. Emo hipsters. I hate them, and they're the kind of person who would ask this.

[(8)Dumb] You post this on facebook. Where people who are your 'friends' can reply. Why would any of your friends say you're dumb? I mean, if you're posting this, no shit you are, but if they're your friend, they probably are too.

[(9)Spoiled] You have the time and money to invest in a computer to have a facebook... you're upper middle class or at least middle middle... (true middle?) You could be well-adjusted, but you're probably the kind of whore who cries when she gets the wrong flavor latte at fucking starbucks with her parents' credit card.

[(10)Mouthy] Didn't we already go over talkative? Unless this only means you use your mouth frequently, which, if you're posting this, you do.

[(11)Wild] There is absolutely no chance that anyone with a facebook is in any way fucking awesome enough to be truly wild... present company excepted, no shit.

[(12)Goofy] No. You're a whore. Whores are /not/ goofy. Similarly, goofy is not a whore.

[(13)Funny] No, you're not. I promise you this. If you were, you wouldn't be posting some [whore-esque] chain status, you'd post something witty. And probably referencing a modern issue. And no, that one shitty joke you made about being hungover does /not/ count.

[(14)Awesome] Whores are only awesome in bed, and even then, only before you count how many STDs you get from her. Fuck, man, if you're awesome you know it, I promise you. You're just awesome like that.

[(15)Amazing] Why be so goddamn redundant? See the paragraph before this one.

[(16) Beautiful] You're not. Insecure girls are, at best, mildly attractive. But girls who obsess over the b-word wear too much fucking makeup.

[(17)Cute] While there are /some/ differences between this and sixteen, I'll note that only intelligent, non-whorish individuals can appreciate it. It's like asking a duck to do your homework, it all ends up in court.

Wait, what?

[(18)Drama queen] You're posting this. You're insecure as to your image. You no doubt go out of your way to preserve one, which means you take too much interest in school events and how people perceive acts at said school events, but you think you're a unique butterfly, so to prove it to yourself, you do crazy shit, but it's all pointless because by now, you're such a drama queen other drama queens resent you for it.

[(19) Best-friend] So, hyphen, we meet AFUCKINGGAIN. Does anyone ever really need to say this? It's blatantly obvious, even to whores like you.

[(20)Want to get to know you better.] No, you don't, you want to get close so you can smell their hair like a fucking stalker does. I promise you, the only person to comment this would be a stalker. You're making an opening for freaks here. What the fuck?

In summary: only whores post this. Don't be a whore, [but still score], rock on, and comment like a motherfucker.

And anyone who posts numbers will get lolz, then their throat slit.

Monday, June 7, 2010

"Jessica, harden your nipples. We're going to battle!"

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Jeff, The Incredibly Cool Learning Skeleton

[His full title describes how awesome I am, actually, but that's because the guy isn't a half-bad wingman at goth bars.]

[semi-funny stuff is in normal text, red is boring moral because I wrote this for a school assignment.]

It's a point of pride with me that I have quite a few friends. Between Chris, Scott, AJ, Andrew, Jessica, Katie, Gabby, Tarra, Stephanie, Mark, Jon, Alex, John, the other Alex, Justin, Conor, and a few dozen more people I could name, I really shouldn't have to spend my day with, say, a dead body in order to not be alone. Unfortunately, I'm a terrible planner, and such a day came where I couldn't do anything with anyone, and was as such forced to haul a dead body out of a shed we have out back and spend the day with it. I was firmly under the assumption that this dead body would be a pretty cool character, for a few reasons. Let me talk about how cool this guy seemed to be.

Our society would have it that skinny is 'in'. Well let me tell you, this guy brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, "skin and bones". I mean, he didn't even have skin, just bones! Now that's skinny. He didn't say much, either; a very stoic fellow, disillusioned by years of incredibly cool acts, no doubt. He was so cool, the whole time I was hauling him out of the shed he didn't say a word. Not the best conversationalist, but a pretty cool guy all the same (maybe even because of that). Between his stoicism and his nearing-on-terrifyingly-thin body, I could tell from the start he was a very cool character.

So, I hauled him out of the shed, dusted him off, splashed him with water for no readily available reason, dried him, threw him in the car, and the skeleton (who I named 'Jeff' after the comedian Jeff Foxworthy) and I were off on our merry way. Jeff and I first stopped at the park. Usually, when friends and I go to Arbolado, we have a nerf war, play hide-and-go-seek, or just run around the play structures like we're five. Well, Jeff didn't turn out to be so good at nerf wars, was terrible at hide and go seek, and I'm not sure he even tried to run around when I suggested it. I was dissapointed, I thought that such a cool customer as Jeff might enjoy a bit of foolery. He was pretty serious, though, so I decided to go somewhere more serious but also fun: the mall.

We got a ride to Sun Valley, and I pulled Jeff out of the car as usual. I took just two steps when Jeff collapsed next to me. He just laid there, on the ground, ignoring my every plea. It turns out Jeff was 'too cool' for the mall. I was fairly fed up at this point. So I took Jeff by his sun-bleached, bony arm, and dragged him to a bench. Once we were at the bench, I proceeded to explain to Jeff that while I thought he was a pretty cool guy, I thought it'd be best if we went our seperate ways. He and all of his other serious, "cool", dead friends could do their thing, and my friends and I would have fun and not worry about what people thought. Jeff sort of nodded at the end, so I knew he got my message. With that, I left him there on his park bench, to the tune of the usual whispers of confusion and interest and the screams of terror that accompanied Jeff's presence.

I learned a lot in my day with Jeff. I learned that his outward, "cool" appearance had little influence on what a boring guy he turned out to be. No matter how skinny and stoic he is, he just wasn't fun, and that wasn't something that could be made up for. I learned that the inside, how people feel, and what they do, is far more important than how "cool" someone looks. I learned this because his awesomely skinny and stoic exterior did nothing when he wouldn't run with me at the park or even enter the mall.

I think I'm now more prone to judge people once I get to know them, not just after I see them. That said, I do sometimes still face that challenge, as people can appear quite two-dimensional. It's simply a fact of life, however, that people are not. Many people I thought air-headed and inconsistent turned out to merely be projecting a happy image while deep down they were complex, often sad, people. It's what's inside people, deep down, even in the marrow (for Jeff, especially), that's important, and it's especially important to remember that instead of judging people to be only skin-deep.
 


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