“For Each Of The Following Items, Describe The Circumstances And Feel Free To Elaborate On The Specifics:”
1. Describe your goals in life and what steps you are taking or will take to reach them.
Not dying. So far that’s working out pretty good. I make sure to take the right precautions when doing something dangerous and a car hasn’t hit me or anything. My goals are like everyone else’s; don’t die too early, listen to music, watch movies, career, family, and own some kind of an exotic pet. Steps? I don’t take a step at a time; I just go and do what is required to get me where I wish to be. Besides, I haven’t made any major decisions for far off life.
2. Describe your gifts and what you do to nurture them.
By gifts I assume you mean abilities. Well, I’m not so sure about that because I just do stuff. I don’t know how or why, I just know I can do it (and sometime I know I can’t). Maybe it’s my ability to look at some things differently. Then again, I just don’t know.
3. What help do you need to reach your fullest potential in life, school, and relationships? Include teachers, mentors, parents, and school programming in your answer.
More time not to do so much work would be nice so I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Good and smart teachers that I would like would also help, but that’s not something I really decide. Also, if I had a computer of my own to carry around and put everything I need inside would help out a lot, but you know……
>> This is from some paper I was supposed to fill out from some kind of special program. I took a “cognitive aptitude” test because I showed some kind of potential or another in CSAP tests or a teacher recommended me for this program for which we had to take the test. Well, the thing is, I hate programs like this. I show some kind of ‘potential’ or ‘gift’ and submitted to some program or test. Which, overall, does nothing for me other than use up my time for other things I would rather be doing. Of course, inevitably, the fact I was in one program leads me to being entered into another for the simple fact…that I was in the other program to in which I began. I am sick and tired of this crap; the “cognitive aptitude” test wasn’t even really worth it. The hardest part was the ‘equation building’ which I still finished in under the 10 or 12 minutes in which I had to do it. So, I decided I would actually put down what I truly thought in answering the ‘items.’ Yes, what is up there is what I actually put on the paper that I am going to turn in to whatever-her-face-is-teacher. My parents also have to fill out a paper like the one I have, but I’m sure theirs will vastly differ from what I have said. If this program goes anywhere, I’m sure it will be all the same over-processing math, analytical science, deep thought reading, and hard studying history. Why can’t we do something normal? You know, like teach us to play an instrument, write something, make art, make something, make simple movies. I’m sure if you have a collective group of people with ‘potential’ or ‘gifts’ then they can rule, subdue, and multiply with just ordinary simple things given the concentration. Well, I’m going to apologize for two things: 1. Giggles, I am sorry I did not put up the prompt-majigger you have given me, I simply have had no motivation to do it and this was just there. 2. This is ridiculously long and really shouldn’t have to be endured…I am sorry. *cliché holiday line*
Oct 30, 2005
Hallow's Eve....Now With Juice!
“Your Favorite Holiday”
I really can’t say I have a particularly favorite holiday out of all of them. I can’t really remember any specific event that made a holiday uber-great and the times I do remember…weren’t all that great. So, I’ve decided to make a new holiday. The holiday will celebrate the desire to do something out of the ordinary. People would do things that you wouldn’t normally do in everyday life. Kind of like a day of liberation and just being there for the sake of…being there. I personally would like to call this new, strange, not-so-normal, holiday S.H.I.N.Y (of course). Stupendously-Happy-Inverted-New-daY. I call this because it is meant to be a day of joy and even if it includes being completely out of the normal. ‘New’ because, well, there is always to be something new happening, none of the same old routine stuff that no one cares about anyway. Also, when you say “S.H.I.N.Y.” you cover the whole ‘happy’ and ‘day’ at the beginning and end of the holiday’s name. Now, to have some kind of organization, you would have to wear shiny stuff of course! Even if this requires whipping out the roll of aluminum foil and wrapping it around every appendage of oneself (some appendages not suggested). A goal of S.H.I.N.Y would be…*sigh*…non-impairment if you will…as that’s just sad if you need to do that be just a little happy. Go and do anything worth something that you can look back and tell your children (or the children depending on what and how you did) and they’re all looking up at you like you’re the greatest, stupidest, craziest, bestest, role model they ever had looked upon with their little eyes. Now that…that would be my favorite holiday.
>> I obtained this prompt from Mocoy after realizing that there was going to be no way I was going to finish the other one I was sent from Giggles. Sorry, please don’t hurt me, be glad I updated at all. I also figured this to be more appropriate with Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and well…it goes for awhile. Though, I don’t have a date for S.H.I.N.Y., and I’m too lazy to think of one, so you come up with one and give a good reason why and you’ll get the recognition and satisfaction that you were the one who came up with the date for a new holiday. Have fun.
I really can’t say I have a particularly favorite holiday out of all of them. I can’t really remember any specific event that made a holiday uber-great and the times I do remember…weren’t all that great. So, I’ve decided to make a new holiday. The holiday will celebrate the desire to do something out of the ordinary. People would do things that you wouldn’t normally do in everyday life. Kind of like a day of liberation and just being there for the sake of…being there. I personally would like to call this new, strange, not-so-normal, holiday S.H.I.N.Y (of course). Stupendously-Happy-Inverted-New-daY. I call this because it is meant to be a day of joy and even if it includes being completely out of the normal. ‘New’ because, well, there is always to be something new happening, none of the same old routine stuff that no one cares about anyway. Also, when you say “S.H.I.N.Y.” you cover the whole ‘happy’ and ‘day’ at the beginning and end of the holiday’s name. Now, to have some kind of organization, you would have to wear shiny stuff of course! Even if this requires whipping out the roll of aluminum foil and wrapping it around every appendage of oneself (some appendages not suggested). A goal of S.H.I.N.Y would be…*sigh*…non-impairment if you will…as that’s just sad if you need to do that be just a little happy. Go and do anything worth something that you can look back and tell your children (or the children depending on what and how you did) and they’re all looking up at you like you’re the greatest, stupidest, craziest, bestest, role model they ever had looked upon with their little eyes. Now that…that would be my favorite holiday.
>> I obtained this prompt from Mocoy after realizing that there was going to be no way I was going to finish the other one I was sent from Giggles. Sorry, please don’t hurt me, be glad I updated at all. I also figured this to be more appropriate with Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and well…it goes for awhile. Though, I don’t have a date for S.H.I.N.Y., and I’m too lazy to think of one, so you come up with one and give a good reason why and you’ll get the recognition and satisfaction that you were the one who came up with the date for a new holiday. Have fun.
Oct 7, 2005
Oblivion Would Be Bliss, Bliss Would Be Hard To Grasp
“Stranded In A Bookstore For 24 Hours, Pick A Section And Why?”
If I were somehow stranded in a bookstore by “accident,” I would stay in sci-fi section or the music section. I would stay in the science fiction because I’m a loser like that. It holds a world far away that involves the imagination and some thought. I don’t think I could stand a romance novel because it would be worse than a soap opera because I would have to read it and have put effort into something so horrible. Mystery would annoy the piss out of me, “There can only be one conclusion!” Of course there can only be one conclusion! If there were two then it would have no solution and the mystery wouldn’t be solved. Straight up non-fiction can just get boring and even worse is its ugly half-cousin; historical fiction, it’s like a poor attempt to teach you something about history in an interesting manner. It doesn’t work that way; I’d rather hear…read…how something actually happened. Science fiction is fun because you can have the craziest random crap happen but still have a crackpot theory that makes it amazingly work because the author said so. Now, if I ever get bored I could slide on over to the music section and just be a bum sifting through music. I could also find some music of my preference and have the packaging mysteriously come off and leave with it when my hours have passed…not that I condone such. Then again, I just might build a big fort out of all the books I could find and declare war on the movie store. They won’t see it coming.
>> What section would you stay in? This was given to myself by Giggles a while ago, she gave me a lot of stuff; I still have two more from her. I feel obligated to give her something for her own writing…and because I told her I would. Unfortunately, I have nothing of that would probably challenge her. Wait! *Runs to get idea* what is the most profound thing you have learned in the past year? Life? And why?
If I were somehow stranded in a bookstore by “accident,” I would stay in sci-fi section or the music section. I would stay in the science fiction because I’m a loser like that. It holds a world far away that involves the imagination and some thought. I don’t think I could stand a romance novel because it would be worse than a soap opera because I would have to read it and have put effort into something so horrible. Mystery would annoy the piss out of me, “There can only be one conclusion!” Of course there can only be one conclusion! If there were two then it would have no solution and the mystery wouldn’t be solved. Straight up non-fiction can just get boring and even worse is its ugly half-cousin; historical fiction, it’s like a poor attempt to teach you something about history in an interesting manner. It doesn’t work that way; I’d rather hear…read…how something actually happened. Science fiction is fun because you can have the craziest random crap happen but still have a crackpot theory that makes it amazingly work because the author said so. Now, if I ever get bored I could slide on over to the music section and just be a bum sifting through music. I could also find some music of my preference and have the packaging mysteriously come off and leave with it when my hours have passed…not that I condone such. Then again, I just might build a big fort out of all the books I could find and declare war on the movie store. They won’t see it coming.
>> What section would you stay in? This was given to myself by Giggles a while ago, she gave me a lot of stuff; I still have two more from her. I feel obligated to give her something for her own writing…and because I told her I would. Unfortunately, I have nothing of that would probably challenge her. Wait! *Runs to get idea* what is the most profound thing you have learned in the past year? Life? And why?
Sep 30, 2005
Bendy Straw!
“Difference Between Laziness And Writer’s Block Is…”
The difference between laziness and writer’s block is a very distinct. Laziness is obviously where you have the idea, you have the resources, but you just don’t feel like it. No matter the obligation or incentive, you just don’t want to get up, wipe the cookies crumbs off your belly and put forth effort. Now, writer’s block can vary from having the urge to write but nothing to write about or something actually being a block to your writing. You may have all the urge in the world and be all “I am going to write the greatest writing that has and ever will be written and put forth on this earth!” But of course you have no idea where to begin and end up just sitting around…and…eating cookies. Though, the worst is having something being a block to your writing. For example, deally loads of homework that keep you up until hours in the night you weren’t aware you were capable of and still function. Laziness equates itself into this and you get transitions like “First”, “Second”, and other cheap and easy words as such. Laziness follows the minimum requirements to squeeze by and just get it done if at all. Writer’s block has everything to do with the wonderful feeling until you actually have the pencil in hand and blank paper in front of you…mocking…laying…and just being a jerk because it took all your inspiration away and in its emptiness of white and blue lines. Then you start to wander and ask if it’s blue paper with white lines and just completely forget why you’re sitting with paper and pencil all by yourself in dim light and the recurring thought of “Bendy Straw!” Overall, it sucks to have writer’s block and you could really care less when you’re lazy.
>> Giggles gave me this and I figured it would be good for her to writer her perspective on this topic and challenged her to finish by a certain date. She beat by…six days…and here I am two days later than her…don’t I feel special. Seriously, go see her writing, she doesn’t update very often (even though I know she has lots of stuff to put up) and it’s a rare site when she does. What are your thoughts? Do you have thoughts? Do you want to give the world a hug, or punch its lights out? What kind of fortune cookie says ‘You are a true friend’? Should people do one thing everyday that scares them? Am I true friend or does that depend on the your perspective of 'friend'? Why do you care? If the hokey-pokey is what it's all about, then what exactly is the hokey-pokey?
The difference between laziness and writer’s block is a very distinct. Laziness is obviously where you have the idea, you have the resources, but you just don’t feel like it. No matter the obligation or incentive, you just don’t want to get up, wipe the cookies crumbs off your belly and put forth effort. Now, writer’s block can vary from having the urge to write but nothing to write about or something actually being a block to your writing. You may have all the urge in the world and be all “I am going to write the greatest writing that has and ever will be written and put forth on this earth!” But of course you have no idea where to begin and end up just sitting around…and…eating cookies. Though, the worst is having something being a block to your writing. For example, deally loads of homework that keep you up until hours in the night you weren’t aware you were capable of and still function. Laziness equates itself into this and you get transitions like “First”, “Second”, and other cheap and easy words as such. Laziness follows the minimum requirements to squeeze by and just get it done if at all. Writer’s block has everything to do with the wonderful feeling until you actually have the pencil in hand and blank paper in front of you…mocking…laying…and just being a jerk because it took all your inspiration away and in its emptiness of white and blue lines. Then you start to wander and ask if it’s blue paper with white lines and just completely forget why you’re sitting with paper and pencil all by yourself in dim light and the recurring thought of “Bendy Straw!” Overall, it sucks to have writer’s block and you could really care less when you’re lazy.
>> Giggles gave me this and I figured it would be good for her to writer her perspective on this topic and challenged her to finish by a certain date. She beat by…six days…and here I am two days later than her…don’t I feel special. Seriously, go see her writing, she doesn’t update very often (even though I know she has lots of stuff to put up) and it’s a rare site when she does. What are your thoughts? Do you have thoughts? Do you want to give the world a hug, or punch its lights out? What kind of fortune cookie says ‘You are a true friend’? Should people do one thing everyday that scares them? Am I true friend or does that depend on the your perspective of 'friend'? Why do you care? If the hokey-pokey is what it's all about, then what exactly is the hokey-pokey?
Sep 16, 2005
Calm Like A Bomb, Ignite.
“Try A Scenario”
Scenario: While waiting for your baggage at an airport, you notice a young woman at the baggage carrousel. Although it’s daytime, she's wearing a black strapless evening gown, high-heeled shoes and coordinated jewelry. She collects a box wrapped in brown paper. What’s in the box? Who’s she meeting? Why is she dressed to the nines at the airport?
Like any other guy I would ask myself the above questions and come to the conclusion she’s strangely attractive at an unusual time of day. Unfortunately, I am insecure about meeting people in public places…especially females. The curiosity would burn me and a million ways to start a conversation would sift through my head. All the meanwhile eyes focused on her and the thought of just ignorance at the top of my mind, after all, ignorance is supposed to be bliss. Another thought of regretting not done sat at the top as well and both weighed heavily. I search the carrousel for my own bags and perhaps a window of opportunity. When I find my bags, I realize how I must look to her, just another guy without a clue and nowhere to go. I decided I might of as well get my bags before someone sees me staring and thinking I’m some kind of stalker or predator. As I reach to get my bags I let out a sigh and notice in the corner of my eye she’s looking at me. I don’t like it people look at me especially intently it’s unnerving and drives my mind to a million and a half tangents all improbable and unnecessary. In order to deal with this feeling, I do what I don’t see most others do. I said hello. She responded with a simple hi and a small smile and didn’t seem surprised by my greeting. I figured that it couldn’t hurt and since I’m here I might as well ask.
“Why are you dressed so nicely and of all the places, the airport?”
“Why are you dressed so plainly?” I looked down at my hooded sweatshirt that I wasn’t so sure when I last cleaned it…maybe a week ago, and then my denim pants that I also wasn’t sure when the last time it was washed. At least my socks and underwear were clean, that has to count for something. So I looked back up and gave her a reason to ponder.
“Why not? I’m comfortable and I’m trying not to grab anyone’s attention and I really don’t want to...I’m at the airport.” She thought for a moment for something to say and didn’t seem to come to a conclusion.
“My name’s Karissa, yours?” She stuck out her hand and balanced the box in her right hand…. why’d she stick out her left hand? This all seems bizarre anyway, so why not? I shook her left hand with mine, feeling a little awkward, physical contact is another thing I don’t do much.
“Charlie…or Chuck…or if you want really want to Charles as long as you don’t say it in a British, rich, pompous accent.”
“Wha?”
“…Don’t worry about it…you trying to start a new trend with the left hand?”
“For spontaneous introductions, yes.” This about when I noticed we were the only ones still standing in front of the carrousel from our flight and people from another flight had come to get their luggage. As I turned back, everything started to get dark and the image of Karissa faded into a distance and soon all I knew was darkness, a voice blaring, and the sensation of being somewhere strange. I opened my eyes to find myself, sitting in a chair at an airport terminal with my flight and rows being called onto the plane.
Still getting over the deep sleep and extreme weirdness of the dream, I grabbed my carry-on and walked into the plane in a state of half-attention and half-sleep. I fell asleep…again… on my flight, but with only reminiscent images and nothing I could really distinguish. I came into the terminal, not really thinking about the strange dream. Just that I’ve never had a dream where I met someone I had never seen before and they had a name. Though, dreams are only dreams and probably mean nothing. I came to the area of the carrousel and stopped…there…in front of the carrousel stood Karissa…little brown wrapped box and all. Well, I don’t know if her name is Karissa, but there’s only way to find out…
>> Giggles gave this to me! I don’t know if it’s any good or not, every time I re-read something I wrote, it sounds more and more worse. No, this was not an actual dream; it’s all made up. If you want to know what’s in the box, too bad, that’s Karissa’s business and not mine or yours. Sorry this took so long, but school is a major pain. I knew sophomore year was going to suck; it’s all in the word “sophomore”! I’m sure there was more I wanted to say, but I can’t think of anything.
Scenario: While waiting for your baggage at an airport, you notice a young woman at the baggage carrousel. Although it’s daytime, she's wearing a black strapless evening gown, high-heeled shoes and coordinated jewelry. She collects a box wrapped in brown paper. What’s in the box? Who’s she meeting? Why is she dressed to the nines at the airport?
Like any other guy I would ask myself the above questions and come to the conclusion she’s strangely attractive at an unusual time of day. Unfortunately, I am insecure about meeting people in public places…especially females. The curiosity would burn me and a million ways to start a conversation would sift through my head. All the meanwhile eyes focused on her and the thought of just ignorance at the top of my mind, after all, ignorance is supposed to be bliss. Another thought of regretting not done sat at the top as well and both weighed heavily. I search the carrousel for my own bags and perhaps a window of opportunity. When I find my bags, I realize how I must look to her, just another guy without a clue and nowhere to go. I decided I might of as well get my bags before someone sees me staring and thinking I’m some kind of stalker or predator. As I reach to get my bags I let out a sigh and notice in the corner of my eye she’s looking at me. I don’t like it people look at me especially intently it’s unnerving and drives my mind to a million and a half tangents all improbable and unnecessary. In order to deal with this feeling, I do what I don’t see most others do. I said hello. She responded with a simple hi and a small smile and didn’t seem surprised by my greeting. I figured that it couldn’t hurt and since I’m here I might as well ask.
“Why are you dressed so nicely and of all the places, the airport?”
“Why are you dressed so plainly?” I looked down at my hooded sweatshirt that I wasn’t so sure when I last cleaned it…maybe a week ago, and then my denim pants that I also wasn’t sure when the last time it was washed. At least my socks and underwear were clean, that has to count for something. So I looked back up and gave her a reason to ponder.
“Why not? I’m comfortable and I’m trying not to grab anyone’s attention and I really don’t want to...I’m at the airport.” She thought for a moment for something to say and didn’t seem to come to a conclusion.
“My name’s Karissa, yours?” She stuck out her hand and balanced the box in her right hand…. why’d she stick out her left hand? This all seems bizarre anyway, so why not? I shook her left hand with mine, feeling a little awkward, physical contact is another thing I don’t do much.
“Charlie…or Chuck…or if you want really want to Charles as long as you don’t say it in a British, rich, pompous accent.”
“Wha?”
“…Don’t worry about it…you trying to start a new trend with the left hand?”
“For spontaneous introductions, yes.” This about when I noticed we were the only ones still standing in front of the carrousel from our flight and people from another flight had come to get their luggage. As I turned back, everything started to get dark and the image of Karissa faded into a distance and soon all I knew was darkness, a voice blaring, and the sensation of being somewhere strange. I opened my eyes to find myself, sitting in a chair at an airport terminal with my flight and rows being called onto the plane.
Still getting over the deep sleep and extreme weirdness of the dream, I grabbed my carry-on and walked into the plane in a state of half-attention and half-sleep. I fell asleep…again… on my flight, but with only reminiscent images and nothing I could really distinguish. I came into the terminal, not really thinking about the strange dream. Just that I’ve never had a dream where I met someone I had never seen before and they had a name. Though, dreams are only dreams and probably mean nothing. I came to the area of the carrousel and stopped…there…in front of the carrousel stood Karissa…little brown wrapped box and all. Well, I don’t know if her name is Karissa, but there’s only way to find out…
>> Giggles gave this to me! I don’t know if it’s any good or not, every time I re-read something I wrote, it sounds more and more worse. No, this was not an actual dream; it’s all made up. If you want to know what’s in the box, too bad, that’s Karissa’s business and not mine or yours. Sorry this took so long, but school is a major pain. I knew sophomore year was going to suck; it’s all in the word “sophomore”! I’m sure there was more I wanted to say, but I can’t think of anything.
Sep 4, 2005
Mass Disillusion +1
“What Is The Most Elaborate Prank You Could Pull Off?”
I’m not sure if I could pull it off, but I can make something really elaborate. First! I would find the radio frequency of the authorities and tell them to prepare for a nuclear holocaust situation and keep lines of communication quiet so the enemies can’t catch onto our plans. Second! I would cut all electricity off to nearby towns as if Colorado were struck first. Third! I would have one…one…radio frequency running and it would be telling everyone about the nuclear holocaust situation. After a month or so, it would start airing a message of “This all has been one big sociological test…you failed.” It would say this over and over again for awhile and soon power would come back to northern Colorado. Fourth! I won’t be anywhere near this place because I’m not that stupid. Of course, another elaborate prank I could pull is tell everyone that a certain album’s *coughHypnotizecough* release date is really far off. Then suddenly I’ll show up one day with a two hundred albums in hand and give everyone a copy and joy will come to all the children! That would be a great prank!
>> I got this from Mocoy awhile ago, I just had to kind of think it through…sad that I already had an idea when she gave it to me. The latter prank was brought on by the recent discovery that System of a Down’s second disc in their dual set, “Hypnotize”, probably won’t come out until November and how great it would be if it came out in September like originally suspected. I can still remain hopeful? Right? I’m pathetic…and sad.
I’m not sure if I could pull it off, but I can make something really elaborate. First! I would find the radio frequency of the authorities and tell them to prepare for a nuclear holocaust situation and keep lines of communication quiet so the enemies can’t catch onto our plans. Second! I would cut all electricity off to nearby towns as if Colorado were struck first. Third! I would have one…one…radio frequency running and it would be telling everyone about the nuclear holocaust situation. After a month or so, it would start airing a message of “This all has been one big sociological test…you failed.” It would say this over and over again for awhile and soon power would come back to northern Colorado. Fourth! I won’t be anywhere near this place because I’m not that stupid. Of course, another elaborate prank I could pull is tell everyone that a certain album’s *coughHypnotizecough* release date is really far off. Then suddenly I’ll show up one day with a two hundred albums in hand and give everyone a copy and joy will come to all the children! That would be a great prank!
>> I got this from Mocoy awhile ago, I just had to kind of think it through…sad that I already had an idea when she gave it to me. The latter prank was brought on by the recent discovery that System of a Down’s second disc in their dual set, “Hypnotize”, probably won’t come out until November and how great it would be if it came out in September like originally suspected. I can still remain hopeful? Right? I’m pathetic…and sad.
Aug 25, 2005
Happy Christmas And Merry Belated Birthday!
“Write A Poem”
6 months and 9 days,
What can I say?,
Sunday funny wrapped,
Held together because it’s ducted,
Inside is something on your head in (>>it) will rend,
Just be glad I’m not your boyfriend.
It’s the anniversary of your birthday,
I really don’t (>>have) much to say,
I’m trying to get stuff to rhyme,
I’m hoping it’s done when you’re reading this at this time,
The syllables and lines are amnesia in this poem,
Hoping you don’t mind I’ll call it Andrea’s Birthday Poem.
>> These are horrendous poems that I wrote for Giggle’s and Mocoy’s birthdays. The first one was (yes, two separate poems there) for Giggles (Lindsey) and the second for Mocoy (Andrea). The words in parentheses are words I didn’t even write on the makeshift cards but were supposed to be there, “it” instead of “in,” and “have” inserted where it is. Shows how much thought I put into things. Oh, and each of their gifts were wrapped in the Sunday funnies and taped with duct tape. Giggle’s gift was a 3 tiara that now lives in her vehicular object. Mocoy’s gift…s…were two fortune cookies, some amount of crème savers, 17 cents (at lack of 17 dollars), and a tape unconsciously added to the package. The reason I put up these exponentially sub-par poems up is because Mocoy wanted me to write a poem, but I had nothing to poem about in particular. So…deal with it.
6 months and 9 days,
What can I say?,
Sunday funny wrapped,
Held together because it’s ducted,
Inside is something on your head in (>>it) will rend,
Just be glad I’m not your boyfriend.
It’s the anniversary of your birthday,
I really don’t (>>have) much to say,
I’m trying to get stuff to rhyme,
I’m hoping it’s done when you’re reading this at this time,
The syllables and lines are amnesia in this poem,
Hoping you don’t mind I’ll call it Andrea’s Birthday Poem.
>> These are horrendous poems that I wrote for Giggle’s and Mocoy’s birthdays. The first one was (yes, two separate poems there) for Giggles (Lindsey) and the second for Mocoy (Andrea). The words in parentheses are words I didn’t even write on the makeshift cards but were supposed to be there, “it” instead of “in,” and “have” inserted where it is. Shows how much thought I put into things. Oh, and each of their gifts were wrapped in the Sunday funnies and taped with duct tape. Giggle’s gift was a 3 tiara that now lives in her vehicular object. Mocoy’s gift…s…were two fortune cookies, some amount of crème savers, 17 cents (at lack of 17 dollars), and a tape unconsciously added to the package. The reason I put up these exponentially sub-par poems up is because Mocoy wanted me to write a poem, but I had nothing to poem about in particular. So…deal with it.
Aug 18, 2005
I Choke On Food And Drink Daily
“A Childhood Experience”
Well, you see I had this sweatshirt that I wore everywhere…no, seriously, I’ll say something real. When I was young, I lived in a bedroom upstairs and down the hall to the left across from the bathroom. I had a full sized bed and a dino comforter. Everything was great until my parents decided to turn my room into an office. My room was then moved downstairs in the basement…the whole entire basement. Not completely but there was three rooms, a laundry room, my bro’s room, and the main room that contained the only TV and led to both of the other rooms. My bed was located at the farthest to the west with a dresser and couch for an east wall. I didn’t even have a blanket hung up for a wall the separate my “room” from everything else. Now, I could hear everything that moved above the basement, everything that came down to the basement, and everything that entered the basement. The doors didn’t help, all three doors squeak and…rumf(?)…against their door frames. Now, I could get over that…except for when my sis came down the stairs and turned on the overheard lights to get to the laundry room, which is about three feet to the left (when coming down) of the downstairs door. I would turn off the lights, but then I would have to walk across my basement to turn them off, then walk back in the dark hoping to not hit anything hard. It was just easier to take the blankets and put them over my head. Also, in the middle of the night our heater/AC would come on…that’s located in the laundry room which has a big vent that leads into my “room.” When you’re little and trying to fall asleep and a loud humming noise comes on in the night…you’re wide awake…of course I would get used to it and get close to falling asleep the to the rhythmic, soothing, humming of this vent. Then, it’s quiet…dead quiet…and I am awake once again. This was not the worse, the crickets were, I woke up almost every night to a cricket chirping in my huge basement. One night, I got sick of it, turned on my lamp (I put one on my dresser so I could get up in the morning without inflicting pain to myself), got a stick, a bright flashlight, and searched for the little effer. I would find it by sound and when it stopped I knew I was close and stab it. There are still dried cricket guts on that stick. I’m sorry, I lied, crickets are nothing, I could kill those, the mornings got bad. One morning I almost pissed myself waking up to an obnoxious racketing noise, a voice blairing, and a bright light. It was my father…on the Nordic Track…watching TV at ridicolous volumes…at five in the morning. The Nordic Track is loud in itself, but boring, so my dad turns on the TV, puts the volume at 41 WITH the stereo hooked up to it. I didn’t ask what he was doing, I didn’t ask why he was doing this, that was obvious, but why he did it now. Not even my dino comforter could comfort me. How I did well in school at the point in time still baffles me. Soon…or I don’t know…it was a horrible blur…we added onto our house and my sis got a new room and I got her old one. It’s tiny, it’s light blue, and full of random crap. To this day I still have my dino comforter and forever it shall be as it there to comfort. What’s the moral? I don’t know, maybe to give your kids a real room for personal space and give them a sweet comforter with dinos?
>> I was given this back in driver’s ed by Mocoy because she wanted a story or something from my childhood, at first I thought of the time when I flew 10 feet in the air, then changed to when I fought with sticks, finally I settle with this when my bro reminded me of it whilst on my trip. I look back and I laugh…especially when I tell it aloud. If this does not satisfy you, then I’ll give you one of the other stories by unanimous request (that’s right, a unanimous request of 2!). Wow this is long, the document which holds all my journals can no longer provide spelling and grammar check it’s so long and full of “mistakes.” If you want to know about my trip through Kansas (should be pronounced ‘Kun-saw’), Oklahoma, Arkansas (barely), Oklahoma, Texas, Oklahoma, and finally Colorado…you’re going to have to wait…by unanimous request (haha!). I have to go to school tomorrow…hope I didn’t miss anything ridicolously important. Again, I am sorry for any spelling, etc., mistakes…I’m just too lazy cut/paste to make new documents. Have fun!
Well, you see I had this sweatshirt that I wore everywhere…no, seriously, I’ll say something real. When I was young, I lived in a bedroom upstairs and down the hall to the left across from the bathroom. I had a full sized bed and a dino comforter. Everything was great until my parents decided to turn my room into an office. My room was then moved downstairs in the basement…the whole entire basement. Not completely but there was three rooms, a laundry room, my bro’s room, and the main room that contained the only TV and led to both of the other rooms. My bed was located at the farthest to the west with a dresser and couch for an east wall. I didn’t even have a blanket hung up for a wall the separate my “room” from everything else. Now, I could hear everything that moved above the basement, everything that came down to the basement, and everything that entered the basement. The doors didn’t help, all three doors squeak and…rumf(?)…against their door frames. Now, I could get over that…except for when my sis came down the stairs and turned on the overheard lights to get to the laundry room, which is about three feet to the left (when coming down) of the downstairs door. I would turn off the lights, but then I would have to walk across my basement to turn them off, then walk back in the dark hoping to not hit anything hard. It was just easier to take the blankets and put them over my head. Also, in the middle of the night our heater/AC would come on…that’s located in the laundry room which has a big vent that leads into my “room.” When you’re little and trying to fall asleep and a loud humming noise comes on in the night…you’re wide awake…of course I would get used to it and get close to falling asleep the to the rhythmic, soothing, humming of this vent. Then, it’s quiet…dead quiet…and I am awake once again. This was not the worse, the crickets were, I woke up almost every night to a cricket chirping in my huge basement. One night, I got sick of it, turned on my lamp (I put one on my dresser so I could get up in the morning without inflicting pain to myself), got a stick, a bright flashlight, and searched for the little effer. I would find it by sound and when it stopped I knew I was close and stab it. There are still dried cricket guts on that stick. I’m sorry, I lied, crickets are nothing, I could kill those, the mornings got bad. One morning I almost pissed myself waking up to an obnoxious racketing noise, a voice blairing, and a bright light. It was my father…on the Nordic Track…watching TV at ridicolous volumes…at five in the morning. The Nordic Track is loud in itself, but boring, so my dad turns on the TV, puts the volume at 41 WITH the stereo hooked up to it. I didn’t ask what he was doing, I didn’t ask why he was doing this, that was obvious, but why he did it now. Not even my dino comforter could comfort me. How I did well in school at the point in time still baffles me. Soon…or I don’t know…it was a horrible blur…we added onto our house and my sis got a new room and I got her old one. It’s tiny, it’s light blue, and full of random crap. To this day I still have my dino comforter and forever it shall be as it there to comfort. What’s the moral? I don’t know, maybe to give your kids a real room for personal space and give them a sweet comforter with dinos?
>> I was given this back in driver’s ed by Mocoy because she wanted a story or something from my childhood, at first I thought of the time when I flew 10 feet in the air, then changed to when I fought with sticks, finally I settle with this when my bro reminded me of it whilst on my trip. I look back and I laugh…especially when I tell it aloud. If this does not satisfy you, then I’ll give you one of the other stories by unanimous request (that’s right, a unanimous request of 2!). Wow this is long, the document which holds all my journals can no longer provide spelling and grammar check it’s so long and full of “mistakes.” If you want to know about my trip through Kansas (should be pronounced ‘Kun-saw’), Oklahoma, Arkansas (barely), Oklahoma, Texas, Oklahoma, and finally Colorado…you’re going to have to wait…by unanimous request (haha!). I have to go to school tomorrow…hope I didn’t miss anything ridicolously important. Again, I am sorry for any spelling, etc., mistakes…I’m just too lazy cut/paste to make new documents. Have fun!
Aug 12, 2005
You'll Survive, And If You Don't, You Didn't Deserve To Survive
“How Do You Orchestrate Happiness?”
Unknowingly. Apparently, I just say random stuff that comes to my head and people are suddenly happy. Wait…let me look up orchestrate to make sure I know what it means…*rolls to local dictionary*…alright, it does. Seriously, I’m not quite sure how I do it but somehow I just do. Of course, I don’t hang around people who don’t make me happy and I seemingly don’t make them happy, so that might have something to do with it. Also, if someone seems a little sad or distressed (sometimes I have a hard time telling if at all), I’ll ask them what’s wrong and try to help them out, make them feel like they’re not alone. This is soon continued by something said that is completely sporadic and makes their thought process run off track. Happiness is soon followed…usually…and the person feels better and generally happy. I just might ask some people how I orchestrate happiness as they would know better than I…or is it me?
>> Mocoy gave this to me a long time ago…during driver’s ed…I’m sorry now, so shush. Tomorrow I leave and won’t be back until next Thursday in case for some reason it completely escaped from your mind that I was. Go to school for one day next week…that will be interesting…don’t know why…but it will. I figure I’ll get a head start on asking people by asking you…how do I orchestrate happiness? There has to be a reason you people put with me. Hmm…I won’t be able to see what you say right away, but I’ll still be able to see eventually…so go ahead tell me. Please, put my contemplating mind at rest. Thank you.
Unknowingly. Apparently, I just say random stuff that comes to my head and people are suddenly happy. Wait…let me look up orchestrate to make sure I know what it means…*rolls to local dictionary*…alright, it does. Seriously, I’m not quite sure how I do it but somehow I just do. Of course, I don’t hang around people who don’t make me happy and I seemingly don’t make them happy, so that might have something to do with it. Also, if someone seems a little sad or distressed (sometimes I have a hard time telling if at all), I’ll ask them what’s wrong and try to help them out, make them feel like they’re not alone. This is soon continued by something said that is completely sporadic and makes their thought process run off track. Happiness is soon followed…usually…and the person feels better and generally happy. I just might ask some people how I orchestrate happiness as they would know better than I…or is it me?
>> Mocoy gave this to me a long time ago…during driver’s ed…I’m sorry now, so shush. Tomorrow I leave and won’t be back until next Thursday in case for some reason it completely escaped from your mind that I was. Go to school for one day next week…that will be interesting…don’t know why…but it will. I figure I’ll get a head start on asking people by asking you…how do I orchestrate happiness? There has to be a reason you people put with me. Hmm…I won’t be able to see what you say right away, but I’ll still be able to see eventually…so go ahead tell me. Please, put my contemplating mind at rest. Thank you.
Aug 8, 2005
My Mind And Myself Are Quite Real, So Would This Mean My Fantasies Are A Reality?
“My Thought Process”
It finally came down to this, a roof-top, a target, and a job to be finished. He aimed his six shooter at the man giving him no chance left. He fired…and nothing happened…a sudden realization hit him that he had used his six bullets earlier that day. He had to think fast, he was supposed to be good at his job. Then with all his might he threw his gun and aimed for the main body in hopes of knocking his target off balance off the roof. Consequently, he hit the target in the face. The target grabbed it’s head and yelled something about its eye, staggered, and fell to its knees…off of the roof-top. Not quite the desired effect but he was good at his job.
>> Watching TV and got bored of what was on and thought of what I would do if I suddenly ran out of bullets…how I got to this thought I don’t quite remember, wait there’s more!
NEXT TIME ON “ALL MY DEALLIES”
“moo.”
“moo.”
“moo.”
*slap*
*insert dramatic music* dun dun DUN
SEE THE TRAMATIZING CONCLUSION THAT WE WON’T SHOW FOR A LONG, LONG, LONG TIME.
>> Again, I got bored, and so we don’t have a faux pa (spelling?), a deally is basically when you take your right hand and make it into a creature like thing that crawls everywhere with your fingers as legs. Also, a deally says and only says “moo” in a monotone voice with no emotion at all. Kungfu Bob pretty much came up with ‘deally’ in the 7th grade and we’ve always just had fun with it. Thanks to him, I can no longer say ‘deally’ without saying “moo” afterward. If you have seen watched an episode of a soap opera, they don’t tell you anything, just keep the suspense, and that’s how they keep their audience. Still more!
The 50 foot tall porcupine stood atop the ridge upon its hind legs. A quill sword in its left hand and one of the three heads from Ghidora in its right. The porcupine soon spotted the flying monster known as Rhodan and it would be next. The porcupine spun the head around faster and faster and released straight for Rhodan. The head clipped Rhodan’s right wing and the creature spun out of control straight for the earth. Rhodan recovered in time to just barely miss the ground and started to head straight for the porcupine, blinded by a furious anger. The porcupine stood in a defensive position, cleaving the quill sword in both hands waiting for the oncoming Rhodan to strike. Rhodan suddenly brought up its claws to rip the porcupine into shreds and soon found this to be a mistake. The porcupine swung the quill sword around and into the Rhodan’s claws, the barbs cut in and expanded. Rhodan’s claws were ripped to shreds and the left claw barely hung and remained a bloody mass. Rhodan soared into the sky to escape the deadly weapon and the porcupine’s wrath. The porcupine bent back exposing its chest and suddenly bent back forward and flexed its back muscles launching a wave of smaller quills into the sky at Rhodan. Several punctured Rhodan’s wings and sent the creature hurtling toward the earth. As the porcupine waited for the dust cloud to settle Rhodan struck out with its hard, long beak at the sword and sent it flying out of reach and stabbed the porcupine in the torso sending it across the ridge. Rhodan knew to survive it would have to fight this new monster without its weapon. The porcupine rose from the ground, quills flared, reached back, and drew out a new, longer, and barb filled quill. Rhodan knew then that it could not win and there was no surviving. The porcupine crawled away that day with another victory heading for the ultimate goal of achieving a name in history.
Godzilla…you’re next.
>> I was floating along a river when I saw a ridge and came up with this. Ghidora and Rhodan are both monsters from the Japanese Godzilla movies and I’m not sure if I have spelled those names correctly. I got the idea for the porcupine from when we were visiting old family friends in the mountains and they were showing us around their ranch…place…and we saw three porcupines. One was freaking huge and was a good distance from the tall grass so we decided to drive up to it. Well, we wanted to see the porcupine’s face…that is very difficult…we were driving around in circles practically rounding up a single porcupine at max speeds of 15 mph (for fear of hitting a rather large bump) and all the time the porcupine is evading us. We never got to see its face. Next!
*Jimi Hendrix guitar riff from All Along The Watchtower that leads into crazy beats and riffs from Rage Against the Machine and leads into all kinds of music from all sorts of bands that only leads back to All Along The Watchtower*
>> When I get really bored I literally start to go into guitar riffs and all sorts of crazy stuff. This also been known to happen whilst reading a book. I was reading a book one day and I noticed that there was music being played in my head…seemingly from my right side…I tried to identify the band and song but as soon as I realized there was music…it faded away only to return when I started to get into the book, its really annoying. Last of all!
Insanity is defined as doing something over and over again expecting a different result. Almost everyone I know who has met Kungfu Bob (or heard about him) has called him insane…as if they expect him to change or something. Maybe he’s just normal and everyone else is insane. That would be awesome. Only the insane thrive, and those who thrive decide what’s insane.
>> I actually thought about this one day when I was pulling weeds or something. I got to show this to Kungfu Bob now. These are basically some of my thought processes…processi…proci…plural for “process”…and I got the idea from when I asked Mocoy why she exactly read all this.
“Mostly because it’s hilarious.”
“Mostly? What’s the other part?”
“To get an inside look at the maze that is your mind.” (Paraphrased there)
“I don’t really think of it as a maze more than a big wide open field that’s being harvested too much.” That’s how I got to all this and it is now ridicously long and probably full of all sorts of errors…ignore those please…thank you. Oh yes, I’m going to be gone…again!…to work at my grandmother’s to earn money for stuff. Then I’m leaving again! Going to Arkansas with my sis to her college because she doesn’t want to go alone so my bro and mother are being dragged along as well. So, I’m going to miss the first day of school and won’t get to catch up and people won’t get to talk to me, BUWAHAHAHAHA…I mean…suckers.
It finally came down to this, a roof-top, a target, and a job to be finished. He aimed his six shooter at the man giving him no chance left. He fired…and nothing happened…a sudden realization hit him that he had used his six bullets earlier that day. He had to think fast, he was supposed to be good at his job. Then with all his might he threw his gun and aimed for the main body in hopes of knocking his target off balance off the roof. Consequently, he hit the target in the face. The target grabbed it’s head and yelled something about its eye, staggered, and fell to its knees…off of the roof-top. Not quite the desired effect but he was good at his job.
>> Watching TV and got bored of what was on and thought of what I would do if I suddenly ran out of bullets…how I got to this thought I don’t quite remember, wait there’s more!
NEXT TIME ON “ALL MY DEALLIES”
“moo.”
“moo.”
“moo.”
*slap*
*insert dramatic music* dun dun DUN
SEE THE TRAMATIZING CONCLUSION THAT WE WON’T SHOW FOR A LONG, LONG, LONG TIME.
>> Again, I got bored, and so we don’t have a faux pa (spelling?), a deally is basically when you take your right hand and make it into a creature like thing that crawls everywhere with your fingers as legs. Also, a deally says and only says “moo” in a monotone voice with no emotion at all. Kungfu Bob pretty much came up with ‘deally’ in the 7th grade and we’ve always just had fun with it. Thanks to him, I can no longer say ‘deally’ without saying “moo” afterward. If you have seen watched an episode of a soap opera, they don’t tell you anything, just keep the suspense, and that’s how they keep their audience. Still more!
The 50 foot tall porcupine stood atop the ridge upon its hind legs. A quill sword in its left hand and one of the three heads from Ghidora in its right. The porcupine soon spotted the flying monster known as Rhodan and it would be next. The porcupine spun the head around faster and faster and released straight for Rhodan. The head clipped Rhodan’s right wing and the creature spun out of control straight for the earth. Rhodan recovered in time to just barely miss the ground and started to head straight for the porcupine, blinded by a furious anger. The porcupine stood in a defensive position, cleaving the quill sword in both hands waiting for the oncoming Rhodan to strike. Rhodan suddenly brought up its claws to rip the porcupine into shreds and soon found this to be a mistake. The porcupine swung the quill sword around and into the Rhodan’s claws, the barbs cut in and expanded. Rhodan’s claws were ripped to shreds and the left claw barely hung and remained a bloody mass. Rhodan soared into the sky to escape the deadly weapon and the porcupine’s wrath. The porcupine bent back exposing its chest and suddenly bent back forward and flexed its back muscles launching a wave of smaller quills into the sky at Rhodan. Several punctured Rhodan’s wings and sent the creature hurtling toward the earth. As the porcupine waited for the dust cloud to settle Rhodan struck out with its hard, long beak at the sword and sent it flying out of reach and stabbed the porcupine in the torso sending it across the ridge. Rhodan knew to survive it would have to fight this new monster without its weapon. The porcupine rose from the ground, quills flared, reached back, and drew out a new, longer, and barb filled quill. Rhodan knew then that it could not win and there was no surviving. The porcupine crawled away that day with another victory heading for the ultimate goal of achieving a name in history.
Godzilla…you’re next.
>> I was floating along a river when I saw a ridge and came up with this. Ghidora and Rhodan are both monsters from the Japanese Godzilla movies and I’m not sure if I have spelled those names correctly. I got the idea for the porcupine from when we were visiting old family friends in the mountains and they were showing us around their ranch…place…and we saw three porcupines. One was freaking huge and was a good distance from the tall grass so we decided to drive up to it. Well, we wanted to see the porcupine’s face…that is very difficult…we were driving around in circles practically rounding up a single porcupine at max speeds of 15 mph (for fear of hitting a rather large bump) and all the time the porcupine is evading us. We never got to see its face. Next!
*Jimi Hendrix guitar riff from All Along The Watchtower that leads into crazy beats and riffs from Rage Against the Machine and leads into all kinds of music from all sorts of bands that only leads back to All Along The Watchtower*
>> When I get really bored I literally start to go into guitar riffs and all sorts of crazy stuff. This also been known to happen whilst reading a book. I was reading a book one day and I noticed that there was music being played in my head…seemingly from my right side…I tried to identify the band and song but as soon as I realized there was music…it faded away only to return when I started to get into the book, its really annoying. Last of all!
Insanity is defined as doing something over and over again expecting a different result. Almost everyone I know who has met Kungfu Bob (or heard about him) has called him insane…as if they expect him to change or something. Maybe he’s just normal and everyone else is insane. That would be awesome. Only the insane thrive, and those who thrive decide what’s insane.
>> I actually thought about this one day when I was pulling weeds or something. I got to show this to Kungfu Bob now. These are basically some of my thought processes…processi…proci…plural for “process”…and I got the idea from when I asked Mocoy why she exactly read all this.
“Mostly because it’s hilarious.”
“Mostly? What’s the other part?”
“To get an inside look at the maze that is your mind.” (Paraphrased there)
“I don’t really think of it as a maze more than a big wide open field that’s being harvested too much.” That’s how I got to all this and it is now ridicously long and probably full of all sorts of errors…ignore those please…thank you. Oh yes, I’m going to be gone…again!…to work at my grandmother’s to earn money for stuff. Then I’m leaving again! Going to Arkansas with my sis to her college because she doesn’t want to go alone so my bro and mother are being dragged along as well. So, I’m going to miss the first day of school and won’t get to catch up and people won’t get to talk to me, BUWAHAHAHAHA…I mean…suckers.
Jul 30, 2005
Surviving One Year Is Nothing, Surviving A Lifetime Is Something
“Do People Have An Innate Respect For A Lifegiving Environment?”
I think there are two extremes to this. Either they do and try to provide one or just don’t care and deep down inside jealous of this kind of environment. There really is no middle ground if thought about long enough. An uber extreme of the not-caring would be the stereotype of a mullet, not shirt, loaded gun, and possibly a brown bag with a bottle of whiskey inside. Typically, if you watch “COPS” you’ll get a glance of this stereotype. Of course, a “lifegiving environment” may be different for some people. Dodging bullets while trying to find your way may seem like a wonderful life because it “weeds out the weak.” All in all, people do have an innate respect for a lifegiving environment, its all just in a difference of opinion, no matter how wrong it may be.
>> As said before, Mocoy gave me this one, she got from some sticky notes on her computer. Now a mental picture might give some notes on the corners and some here and there…nope…the front of her monitor is almost covered in all sticky notes, the only reason you can see anything is because if there were more they’d cover up each other. Yeah, it was Mocoy…Andrea’s birthday yesterday…*insert cliché line*…I got her a slinky, some crème savers, 17 cents because she turned 17 and I didn’t have 17 dollars, two fortune cookies, H.P. Lovecraft stories, and unknown to me a school project tape that I wanted her to see but accidentally wrapped with everything else. Funny pages and duct tape, that’s the way to go, and a makeshift ‘card’ with a crummy poem inside. If you want anything for your birthday, just ask and I’ll give you something random out of my pocket.
I think there are two extremes to this. Either they do and try to provide one or just don’t care and deep down inside jealous of this kind of environment. There really is no middle ground if thought about long enough. An uber extreme of the not-caring would be the stereotype of a mullet, not shirt, loaded gun, and possibly a brown bag with a bottle of whiskey inside. Typically, if you watch “COPS” you’ll get a glance of this stereotype. Of course, a “lifegiving environment” may be different for some people. Dodging bullets while trying to find your way may seem like a wonderful life because it “weeds out the weak.” All in all, people do have an innate respect for a lifegiving environment, its all just in a difference of opinion, no matter how wrong it may be.
>> As said before, Mocoy gave me this one, she got from some sticky notes on her computer. Now a mental picture might give some notes on the corners and some here and there…nope…the front of her monitor is almost covered in all sticky notes, the only reason you can see anything is because if there were more they’d cover up each other. Yeah, it was Mocoy…Andrea’s birthday yesterday…*insert cliché line*…I got her a slinky, some crème savers, 17 cents because she turned 17 and I didn’t have 17 dollars, two fortune cookies, H.P. Lovecraft stories, and unknown to me a school project tape that I wanted her to see but accidentally wrapped with everything else. Funny pages and duct tape, that’s the way to go, and a makeshift ‘card’ with a crummy poem inside. If you want anything for your birthday, just ask and I’ll give you something random out of my pocket.
Two Ton, Sixty Miles An Hour, And My Mind...Anyone See A Problem?
“Thoughts On Political Correctness”
When I was little I figured ‘politically correct’ to be kind of an oxymoron. Then one day someone said to me “You like being policitally correct, don’t you?” The words lost all meaning to me and as far as I know, to be politically correct is to make sure everything is done the way it’s supposed to be. Of course, I think this would be hard to distinquish when everyone is right “in their own way.” Then again, I could be completely wrong, but I just don’t know. As far as I can perceive, most people tend to hate those who are ‘politically correct’ because they’re being corrected and it’s annoying. So, would they rather be ‘politically incorrect’? Since when is it bad to be correct? I wish people would make up their minds because I never seem to know what’s going on. I guess I’m politically correct for the minority.
See? I’ve come accustom to it and formed my own “correct” way, oh the hypocrisy! Get over it, I have.
>> I wrote this in driver’s ed…again…along with another one…on Wednesday, but was too tired to put anything up because of work and being at the DMV for a long time on Friday. I’ll put up the other one today as well as I’m going to be gone all next week, so you can complain but it will get you nowhere. Mocoy gave me this one as well as 4 others, but I only really planned on writing for three of the total five. I didn’t get to start the third one even which means I had to actually pay attention to driver’s ed…or I was sleeping.
When I was little I figured ‘politically correct’ to be kind of an oxymoron. Then one day someone said to me “You like being policitally correct, don’t you?” The words lost all meaning to me and as far as I know, to be politically correct is to make sure everything is done the way it’s supposed to be. Of course, I think this would be hard to distinquish when everyone is right “in their own way.” Then again, I could be completely wrong, but I just don’t know. As far as I can perceive, most people tend to hate those who are ‘politically correct’ because they’re being corrected and it’s annoying. So, would they rather be ‘politically incorrect’? Since when is it bad to be correct? I wish people would make up their minds because I never seem to know what’s going on. I guess I’m politically correct for the minority.
See? I’ve come accustom to it and formed my own “correct” way, oh the hypocrisy! Get over it, I have.
>> I wrote this in driver’s ed…again…along with another one…on Wednesday, but was too tired to put anything up because of work and being at the DMV for a long time on Friday. I’ll put up the other one today as well as I’m going to be gone all next week, so you can complain but it will get you nowhere. Mocoy gave me this one as well as 4 others, but I only really planned on writing for three of the total five. I didn’t get to start the third one even which means I had to actually pay attention to driver’s ed…or I was sleeping.
Jul 26, 2005
My Soap Makes Me Sneeze
“Types Of Friends”
Beneficial: These aren’t really friends and only used for your benefit (hence the name). As good as it sounds, it’s probably best you don’t become too good of friends (at least to them) because they might become a “Disney” friend (see below).
Disney: These aren’t friends either, they just have the dillusion you and everyone else is their bestest buddy. Overly optimistic about everything and deeply believe everything will turn out “OK” no matter what happens (like a Disney movie). These people are just plain annoying and almost blind to the real world around them.
Acquaintance: People you know exist and if absolutely necessary, you can get along with them. If you enter a room, these people are the ones you go to after you look for your Almost Unreal friends (see later). Overall, you probably could care care less about their well being, but don’t know it until they turn Disney or Wannabe (see below)…or even worse a Disnabe.
Wannabe: These are definitely the ones you wouldn’t shed a tear for if something happened to them. These friends follow you around like a lost puppy and you end up being their beneficial friend. These are also the people that have in no way anything in common with you but they want to give off the impression they do anyway. These are usually the ones everyone picks on and abuses.
Almost Unreal: These are the ones that don’t care what you look like, say, do or anything but also aren’t afraid to speak their minds in the same manner. If there was a designated leader amongst them, the rest would follow them to their deaths (well, maybe). These are first people you look for in a room. You all get along so well and somehow find a way to have fun no matter what, it seems almost unreal. These are the people you would start sobbing for if they hadn’t already told you to “Suck it up and live your life the way we always have.” You basically trust these people the most and would prefer to be in their company when you die.
>> I wrote this while in Driver’s Ed way before the first fourth of the class was over. I swear that class is full of idiots, for friends they go under “Not At All.” I’m not sure some of them realize this is a class for learning to become a part of society with a 2-ton metal unit. One guy looks like he’s stoned the whole freaking time……both days! I think I’ve made up for some lost sleep in that class…yeah, I’m ranting about the idiots in that class and I’m sleeping and writing stuff. I think I’m going to need about five prompts tomorrow, speaking of which, Mocoy gave me this under pressure…I think I’ll try that more often.
Beneficial: These aren’t really friends and only used for your benefit (hence the name). As good as it sounds, it’s probably best you don’t become too good of friends (at least to them) because they might become a “Disney” friend (see below).
Disney: These aren’t friends either, they just have the dillusion you and everyone else is their bestest buddy. Overly optimistic about everything and deeply believe everything will turn out “OK” no matter what happens (like a Disney movie). These people are just plain annoying and almost blind to the real world around them.
Acquaintance: People you know exist and if absolutely necessary, you can get along with them. If you enter a room, these people are the ones you go to after you look for your Almost Unreal friends (see later). Overall, you probably could care care less about their well being, but don’t know it until they turn Disney or Wannabe (see below)…or even worse a Disnabe.
Wannabe: These are definitely the ones you wouldn’t shed a tear for if something happened to them. These friends follow you around like a lost puppy and you end up being their beneficial friend. These are also the people that have in no way anything in common with you but they want to give off the impression they do anyway. These are usually the ones everyone picks on and abuses.
Almost Unreal: These are the ones that don’t care what you look like, say, do or anything but also aren’t afraid to speak their minds in the same manner. If there was a designated leader amongst them, the rest would follow them to their deaths (well, maybe). These are first people you look for in a room. You all get along so well and somehow find a way to have fun no matter what, it seems almost unreal. These are the people you would start sobbing for if they hadn’t already told you to “Suck it up and live your life the way we always have.” You basically trust these people the most and would prefer to be in their company when you die.
>> I wrote this while in Driver’s Ed way before the first fourth of the class was over. I swear that class is full of idiots, for friends they go under “Not At All.” I’m not sure some of them realize this is a class for learning to become a part of society with a 2-ton metal unit. One guy looks like he’s stoned the whole freaking time……both days! I think I’ve made up for some lost sleep in that class…yeah, I’m ranting about the idiots in that class and I’m sleeping and writing stuff. I think I’m going to need about five prompts tomorrow, speaking of which, Mocoy gave me this under pressure…I think I’ll try that more often.
Jul 23, 2005
If Marilyn Monroe Was Alive Right Now, What Would She Be Doing?
“If I Could Have A Dinner Party With Three People, Dead Or Alive, I’d Invite…”
The alive ones of course. Now choosing three alive people to invite to a “dinner party” is very difficult. I would have to consider if the people would actually come, so anyone rich, famous, or otherwise is out of the question. I would also have to consider the fact that it won’t be a very good dinner party. I can’t drive anywhere let alone afford to eat anywhere relatively nice. So, I’d have to cook basically everything myself and have the people not mind the cooking. This leaves me left with inviting friends. I don’t mind, in fact, I think I would rather have a “dinner party” with friends than anyone otherwise. Also, it would be more casual and comfortable and everyone can bring their favorite food. Then again, it wouldn’t really be a “dinner party,” more or less a…hmm…well…it wouldn’t be a dinner party whatever it is. Now since I can only invite three for some strange reason, most likely only three can come, I would have to think carefully. Odd as it may sound, I wouldn’t invite all guys, bad things would happen and someone will probably be lit on fire. I would have to invite a girl…better make it two to equalize the spectrum because, lets face it, girls aren’t going to lead to much trouble as four guys. The other person would have to be a guy otherwise I’d get the feeling of being surrounded and be frightened the whole time. I can’t really name any names at the present moment because I really can’t say who (whom?) I’d invite but I think I have a rough idea.
>> I wrote all that to just say “I don’t know.” I asked Mocoy and she gave me this prompt…yes I am aware Mocoy and Giggles have both had their names in their respective blogs, but I have more fun with the names “Mocoy” and “Giggles.” I shall continue to update sporadically because I’m lazy, dying, and……too lazy to name anymore excuses.
The alive ones of course. Now choosing three alive people to invite to a “dinner party” is very difficult. I would have to consider if the people would actually come, so anyone rich, famous, or otherwise is out of the question. I would also have to consider the fact that it won’t be a very good dinner party. I can’t drive anywhere let alone afford to eat anywhere relatively nice. So, I’d have to cook basically everything myself and have the people not mind the cooking. This leaves me left with inviting friends. I don’t mind, in fact, I think I would rather have a “dinner party” with friends than anyone otherwise. Also, it would be more casual and comfortable and everyone can bring their favorite food. Then again, it wouldn’t really be a “dinner party,” more or less a…hmm…well…it wouldn’t be a dinner party whatever it is. Now since I can only invite three for some strange reason, most likely only three can come, I would have to think carefully. Odd as it may sound, I wouldn’t invite all guys, bad things would happen and someone will probably be lit on fire. I would have to invite a girl…better make it two to equalize the spectrum because, lets face it, girls aren’t going to lead to much trouble as four guys. The other person would have to be a guy otherwise I’d get the feeling of being surrounded and be frightened the whole time. I can’t really name any names at the present moment because I really can’t say who (whom?) I’d invite but I think I have a rough idea.
>> I wrote all that to just say “I don’t know.” I asked Mocoy and she gave me this prompt…yes I am aware Mocoy and Giggles have both had their names in their respective blogs, but I have more fun with the names “Mocoy” and “Giggles.” I shall continue to update sporadically because I’m lazy, dying, and……too lazy to name anymore excuses.
Jul 19, 2005
I Was Going To Put Something Here But Forgot
“If I Choose How I Want To Died, I Would Choose…”
I would choose explosion. Not one an explosion where I’m mortally wounded and have no chance of survival and some chick weeps over my half burnt dead corpse. None of that dramatic crap. Straight up oblivion. I wouldn’t know anything was happening and suddenly billions of pieces of me are flying everywhere on fire. You can look at it in a point of view of a free cremation with the bonus of burying a box six in the ground full of nothing. Maybe people will put some pictures in there but I already know what I look like and flowers wouldn’t do me any good. In remembrance, I would want people to light off loud and bright fireworks next to some red paint for effect. Though, no one would be able to wear black at my “funeral,” just way too depressing. Cry, a moment of silence, faded memories, I don’t care but black is just takes it way too far. No alcoholic beverages, people wallowing in that stuff can’t be good. Of course, it’s hard to say if people will actually be wallowing knowing that fact I’m dead, they could very well be dancing on an empty box. Another bonus is I can say “Over my dead body!” and no one can because my body is in a berjillion and a half pieces (that’s a berjillion pieces with half of a piece). Of course, a quicker, easier death would just be a bullet in my head, but then we just got a mess on our hands now don’t we?
>> Yes, there was nothing on Friday or Monday, go cry about it. I got this from Mocoy (amazingly) as we are all running on empty. So, updation may be sporadic. If you have any complaints, come up with some prompts on your own and we’ll talk. How would you choose to die? Yes, this may or may not be a forum/sociological test.
I would choose explosion. Not one an explosion where I’m mortally wounded and have no chance of survival and some chick weeps over my half burnt dead corpse. None of that dramatic crap. Straight up oblivion. I wouldn’t know anything was happening and suddenly billions of pieces of me are flying everywhere on fire. You can look at it in a point of view of a free cremation with the bonus of burying a box six in the ground full of nothing. Maybe people will put some pictures in there but I already know what I look like and flowers wouldn’t do me any good. In remembrance, I would want people to light off loud and bright fireworks next to some red paint for effect. Though, no one would be able to wear black at my “funeral,” just way too depressing. Cry, a moment of silence, faded memories, I don’t care but black is just takes it way too far. No alcoholic beverages, people wallowing in that stuff can’t be good. Of course, it’s hard to say if people will actually be wallowing knowing that fact I’m dead, they could very well be dancing on an empty box. Another bonus is I can say “Over my dead body!” and no one can because my body is in a berjillion and a half pieces (that’s a berjillion pieces with half of a piece). Of course, a quicker, easier death would just be a bullet in my head, but then we just got a mess on our hands now don’t we?
>> Yes, there was nothing on Friday or Monday, go cry about it. I got this from Mocoy (amazingly) as we are all running on empty. So, updation may be sporadic. If you have any complaints, come up with some prompts on your own and we’ll talk. How would you choose to die? Yes, this may or may not be a forum/sociological test.
Jul 14, 2005
Do You Have An Innie, Or An Outtie?
“A Perfect Murder.”
A knife in the chest,
Writhing up to the point,
Stream of blood from the fatal wound,
Blade unshimmering with a tint of black,
Writing left in the hand of the dead,
‘See no more, feel nothing anymore,
Killing in the name of the undesirable.’
The decalaration of suicide,
Leaving no trace of homicide,
The only true knowing eye,
Belonging to the moon and its shine.
>> Kind of pissed off when I wrote this and I guess it’s supposed to be kind of dark, don’t know if I pulled it off though. I was also listening to Rage Against the Machine when writing (if you couldn’t tell in the 7th line). Ironically enough, I felt better after writing this and listening to Rage. Yes it’s short but it’s supposed to also make you think of all the possibilities by giving only very few. Oh, and Mocoy gave this prompt. In case you are wondering, I have an innie.
A knife in the chest,
Writhing up to the point,
Stream of blood from the fatal wound,
Blade unshimmering with a tint of black,
Writing left in the hand of the dead,
‘See no more, feel nothing anymore,
Killing in the name of the undesirable.’
The decalaration of suicide,
Leaving no trace of homicide,
The only true knowing eye,
Belonging to the moon and its shine.
>> Kind of pissed off when I wrote this and I guess it’s supposed to be kind of dark, don’t know if I pulled it off though. I was also listening to Rage Against the Machine when writing (if you couldn’t tell in the 7th line). Ironically enough, I felt better after writing this and listening to Rage. Yes it’s short but it’s supposed to also make you think of all the possibilities by giving only very few. Oh, and Mocoy gave this prompt. In case you are wondering, I have an innie.
Jul 13, 2005
You Simply Don't Know Me
“If I Were To Be Famous…”
If I were to be famous, I’d want to the kind of fame behind the scenes. That way I won’t be bombarded by a hundred and two people whenever I try to buy some pants that fit. For example, if I were to be in a famous rock band, I’d want to the drummer. No one can name the drummer of a famous rock band, try it, I dare you. I’m famous but not at the point of recognition if I was just walking down the street. I couldn’t stand the fame of being the lead singer/guitarist of a band. If people started getting too close I would start freaking out and go all berserk on them. This is also a good way to keep the paparazzi off of me because no one wants the hear what the drummer of so-and-so band yesterday at the supermarket while testing the durability of shopping carts at high velocities. Also, if I were to be a some kind of actor person, I would always die in the movie. I would die in some big explosion that is key to the victory for the “main” character who is only the hero because he’s still alive. Still, no one wants to hear about that guy who died in some explosion. They want to hear about the star of it all who could save the day by just shooting down the bad guy. So, I’d want to be famous just not all the fame.
>> I pulled this one out of nowhere after I got down mowing some guy’s lawn. Though my bro said to me earlier about the whole drummer thing:
“No, girls will go for the drummer over the bassist.”
“Why?”
“Chicks dig a guy with a sense of rhythm.”
“………Great……just shoot my theory in the foot!”
Oh yes, Giggles, I hope you enjoy your crown and stuff.
If I were to be famous, I’d want to the kind of fame behind the scenes. That way I won’t be bombarded by a hundred and two people whenever I try to buy some pants that fit. For example, if I were to be in a famous rock band, I’d want to the drummer. No one can name the drummer of a famous rock band, try it, I dare you. I’m famous but not at the point of recognition if I was just walking down the street. I couldn’t stand the fame of being the lead singer/guitarist of a band. If people started getting too close I would start freaking out and go all berserk on them. This is also a good way to keep the paparazzi off of me because no one wants the hear what the drummer of so-and-so band yesterday at the supermarket while testing the durability of shopping carts at high velocities. Also, if I were to be a some kind of actor person, I would always die in the movie. I would die in some big explosion that is key to the victory for the “main” character who is only the hero because he’s still alive. Still, no one wants to hear about that guy who died in some explosion. They want to hear about the star of it all who could save the day by just shooting down the bad guy. So, I’d want to be famous just not all the fame.
>> I pulled this one out of nowhere after I got down mowing some guy’s lawn. Though my bro said to me earlier about the whole drummer thing:
“No, girls will go for the drummer over the bassist.”
“Why?”
“Chicks dig a guy with a sense of rhythm.”
“………Great……just shoot my theory in the foot!”
Oh yes, Giggles, I hope you enjoy your crown and stuff.
Jul 12, 2005
Pumpkins Of The Smashing
“The Ideal Afterlife.”
Well, you know, heaven sounds pretty good. Everyone’s happy because we don’t have to worry about crappy things. Maybe that’s why makes it so hard for people to believe, they’re so used to the world being absolute crap that they can’t comprehend something being good. Seriously, that’s all I can really say about that, it’s all kind of obvious stuff. Though, it would be cool to have some rock bands up there rocking away. It’d be all “SWEET!” and Jesus would probably be playing bass because…well…I don’t know, it’s just easier to picture. Jesus is freaking metal. It would also be cool if suddenly I could play the drums a berjillion times better than I can now because then I could finally say “I can play the drums at a constant beat without screwing up!” Yeah, that would be cool, but I’m going to have to wait…I don’t know how long…and see for myself. People can make fun of me all they want but we’ll see who’s being made fun when they’re afraid of dying. Have a nice life.
>> Again, from Mocoy, yes it’s short because there’s not much to explain. I can also safely say I welcome the apocalypse because I’m just that weird and the world sucks anyway. To Giggles, I hope you like your crown/tiara, my crummy poem, and earrings which may or may not be clip on that I got for your birthday…6 months and 9 days late. Don’t judge me.
Well, you know, heaven sounds pretty good. Everyone’s happy because we don’t have to worry about crappy things. Maybe that’s why makes it so hard for people to believe, they’re so used to the world being absolute crap that they can’t comprehend something being good. Seriously, that’s all I can really say about that, it’s all kind of obvious stuff. Though, it would be cool to have some rock bands up there rocking away. It’d be all “SWEET!” and Jesus would probably be playing bass because…well…I don’t know, it’s just easier to picture. Jesus is freaking metal. It would also be cool if suddenly I could play the drums a berjillion times better than I can now because then I could finally say “I can play the drums at a constant beat without screwing up!” Yeah, that would be cool, but I’m going to have to wait…I don’t know how long…and see for myself. People can make fun of me all they want but we’ll see who’s being made fun when they’re afraid of dying. Have a nice life.
>> Again, from Mocoy, yes it’s short because there’s not much to explain. I can also safely say I welcome the apocalypse because I’m just that weird and the world sucks anyway. To Giggles, I hope you like your crown/tiara, my crummy poem, and earrings which may or may not be clip on that I got for your birthday…6 months and 9 days late. Don’t judge me.
Jul 11, 2005
You're It
“If Our Generation Had A Name…”
If our generation had a name, that would be great because as far as I know we don’t have one. It would mean that someone finally came up with an idea and just started calling us something that everyone agrees with. It would be pretty amazing because we really don’t agree on anything, our motto should be “Don’t Ask, Just Accept” but society would probably put an extra word in there that would show just how indecent our generation can be. Sure am glad I don’t have to name our generation, I’m not too good with making up names especially with something that deals with such a large number of people. Someone would come up with something like Generation Diversus which means in Latin “different, unlike, opposed, hostile.” Seems to fit pretty well. Of course a more fitting name that no one would like to suggest would be Generation F*** You. That would just about cover most of our generation.
>> Got this from Mocoy (who has two blogs here that all my readers know about). Had to search for a Latin word equivalent to “different” and got quite a few and decided “diversus” was the most fitting. What would you name our generation? To be not so conspicious we could use Generation Fuh-U, which is just about the same.
If our generation had a name, that would be great because as far as I know we don’t have one. It would mean that someone finally came up with an idea and just started calling us something that everyone agrees with. It would be pretty amazing because we really don’t agree on anything, our motto should be “Don’t Ask, Just Accept” but society would probably put an extra word in there that would show just how indecent our generation can be. Sure am glad I don’t have to name our generation, I’m not too good with making up names especially with something that deals with such a large number of people. Someone would come up with something like Generation Diversus which means in Latin “different, unlike, opposed, hostile.” Seems to fit pretty well. Of course a more fitting name that no one would like to suggest would be Generation F*** You. That would just about cover most of our generation.
>> Got this from Mocoy (who has two blogs here that all my readers know about). Had to search for a Latin word equivalent to “different” and got quite a few and decided “diversus” was the most fitting. What would you name our generation? To be not so conspicious we could use Generation Fuh-U, which is just about the same.
Jul 8, 2005
I Wish I Had The Heart Of A Boy...In A Jar On My Shelf
“If I Could Do One Thing, No Regrets, And Take It Back The Next Day, What Would I Do?”
It’s like owning a time machine that I can only use once…sweet! I would say everything I have ever thought about everyone to their faces. Tell jerks how much I and everyone else hates them and why. I would probably continue to tell them how they will probably die a horrible death and beat their faces in. I would tell all the girls that I have liked when I liked them and why I hate them now. I would then build an army out of my closest friends and go on a rampage to destroy all stupid. This includes a certain ISP company. On our rampage, I’d make sure we wouldn’t do anything overwhelmingly dumb ourselves or forfeit of life. After the destruction of the certain ISP company, we’d just have a huge LAN party playing one big game of Unreal Tournament……mmmmm……and Mountain Dew would be handed arounded to all the people of the world. Even though I would have to take it all back the next day, it would be worth because I would feel so much better knowing what all I can accomplish in one day. It sounds mean, horrific, and possibly a little disturbing, but at least I’m being honest.
>> Giggles gave me this one, I am definitely going to start asking for suggestions in the middle of the day more often, people are prime for harvesting ideas. In retrospect of yesterday’s prompt, it’s more like “I could choose to be an animal” than anything, but it still works…worked? So, now the question is, what would you do?
It’s like owning a time machine that I can only use once…sweet! I would say everything I have ever thought about everyone to their faces. Tell jerks how much I and everyone else hates them and why. I would probably continue to tell them how they will probably die a horrible death and beat their faces in. I would tell all the girls that I have liked when I liked them and why I hate them now. I would then build an army out of my closest friends and go on a rampage to destroy all stupid. This includes a certain ISP company. On our rampage, I’d make sure we wouldn’t do anything overwhelmingly dumb ourselves or forfeit of life. After the destruction of the certain ISP company, we’d just have a huge LAN party playing one big game of Unreal Tournament……mmmmm……and Mountain Dew would be handed arounded to all the people of the world. Even though I would have to take it all back the next day, it would be worth because I would feel so much better knowing what all I can accomplish in one day. It sounds mean, horrific, and possibly a little disturbing, but at least I’m being honest.
>> Giggles gave me this one, I am definitely going to start asking for suggestions in the middle of the day more often, people are prime for harvesting ideas. In retrospect of yesterday’s prompt, it’s more like “I could choose to be an animal” than anything, but it still works…worked? So, now the question is, what would you do?
Jul 7, 2005
Don't Even THINK Monkey!
“If I Could Choose To Be Reincarnated Into An Animal…”
I really don’t know, since I don’t really believe in reincarnation. I also thought you didn’t really get to choose what you became, even still it would be a hard choice. Some people would say like a shark, but you always have to keep moving to stay alive and I’m too lazy to do that. Some others would say a dog, yet I think it would suck to be a dog. Ordered around all day seemingly oblivious to world around me. No way would I be cat. I don’t like cats very much. Wouldn’t be a snake because…would you want to crawl on your stomach? All fish and things of the sea out of the question because there’s ALWAYS a bigger fish/mammal/thing. I also wouldn’t want to be anything in Africa as all the animals there are hunted and it would just be a major pain. Now that I think of it, I would want to be a beetle. Why you may ask? They’re freaking cool, they have wings, a hard shell, and fun to look at. I’d want to be a big beetle thing that lives in some far away forest with no human beings around and just chill all day long. Also, if I were to be eaten, at least it would be over with real soon. Squishy!
>> Got this from Mocoy…today around noon and got it up real late. Oh well, I was blowing things up so it was worth it. If there are any mistakes, sorry, I typed this kind of fast. What would you be?
I really don’t know, since I don’t really believe in reincarnation. I also thought you didn’t really get to choose what you became, even still it would be a hard choice. Some people would say like a shark, but you always have to keep moving to stay alive and I’m too lazy to do that. Some others would say a dog, yet I think it would suck to be a dog. Ordered around all day seemingly oblivious to world around me. No way would I be cat. I don’t like cats very much. Wouldn’t be a snake because…would you want to crawl on your stomach? All fish and things of the sea out of the question because there’s ALWAYS a bigger fish/mammal/thing. I also wouldn’t want to be anything in Africa as all the animals there are hunted and it would just be a major pain. Now that I think of it, I would want to be a beetle. Why you may ask? They’re freaking cool, they have wings, a hard shell, and fun to look at. I’d want to be a big beetle thing that lives in some far away forest with no human beings around and just chill all day long. Also, if I were to be eaten, at least it would be over with real soon. Squishy!
>> Got this from Mocoy…today around noon and got it up real late. Oh well, I was blowing things up so it was worth it. If there are any mistakes, sorry, I typed this kind of fast. What would you be?
Jul 6, 2005
Don't Ask: Will I Be Worth Remembering By The World? But To Ask: Is The World Worth Remembering Me?
“Pet Peeves.”
Stupid. Rap. I guess those two kind of go together. Arrogance. The phone, because I get so many calls at the weirdest times. I can get more than five in less than five consecutive minutes. It also seems the stupid people call:
“Are your parents there?”
“No! They’re at work! Don’t you work?!?!?” So many times have I wanted to yell this because it seems like it’s the same people every time. My family thinking I’m some kind of…what was that name?…Casanova! That’s real annoying. People showing up at my house without prior permission, that’s why delivery people run away. People ALWAYS saying “monkey,” get a new animal like…koala or…wallabee (>>dibs on wallabee)! Anger that apparently can’t be solved other than sulking and groaning about it. People who want to know who you are for no reason and then act like you’re suddenly their bestest friend in the world. Finally, hypocrisy and angry rants.
>> One of the old prompts that I forced inspiration upon by a hard shove of my mind and mental capabilities. There may not be anything for awhile as inspiration is running thin with my prompts, I have maybe five and two deal with Thanksgiving and New Year’s. So, very possible nothing for awhile, deal with it.
Stupid. Rap. I guess those two kind of go together. Arrogance. The phone, because I get so many calls at the weirdest times. I can get more than five in less than five consecutive minutes. It also seems the stupid people call:
“Are your parents there?”
“No! They’re at work! Don’t you work?!?!?” So many times have I wanted to yell this because it seems like it’s the same people every time. My family thinking I’m some kind of…what was that name?…Casanova! That’s real annoying. People showing up at my house without prior permission, that’s why delivery people run away. People ALWAYS saying “monkey,” get a new animal like…koala or…wallabee (>>dibs on wallabee)! Anger that apparently can’t be solved other than sulking and groaning about it. People who want to know who you are for no reason and then act like you’re suddenly their bestest friend in the world. Finally, hypocrisy and angry rants.
>> One of the old prompts that I forced inspiration upon by a hard shove of my mind and mental capabilities. There may not be anything for awhile as inspiration is running thin with my prompts, I have maybe five and two deal with Thanksgiving and New Year’s. So, very possible nothing for awhile, deal with it.
Jul 5, 2005
Disclaimer: I Am In No Way Responsible For Your Rebellious Actions Influenced By My Writing
“My Favorite Part Of Elementary School.”
Not dying. That’s about as fair in judgement as I can be because I don’t remember most of elementary school. I remember where I went, what teachers, but nothing too specific. I do remember being called “weird” a lot…a whole lot. Little did my prepubescent peers know that that word would have a long term effect on me that leads me to this very moment. Also, it had led to me being considered “crazy” and/or “psychotic” where deep down I am maniacally planning against them. I really don’t have a part of elementary school, as all remnants have been practically blown away. Now, those that chose to be vicious as children have developed into scum that feeds off the attention they so desparately strive to gain. Thinking it matters what you look like and what all the others think of themselves. In retrospect, I don’t need to plan against them, I already screwed them over when I decided I didn’t want to be them. Of course, they probably think they same of me, but the difference is that they care and I don’t. Thanks elementary school, I hate you and like you all at the same time.
>> Oh yeah, because putting stuff online isn’t trying to attention at all. This prompt is one of those that I originally got in class, had to rewrite but didn’t have any inspiration for it. Then I made myself get inspired because…well…I haven’t talked to my inspirerers in awhile. ‘Tis true, I don’t remember much of elementary school and I guess I don’t want to. Can you you remember elementary school (to see if I’m just crazy or not)?
Not dying. That’s about as fair in judgement as I can be because I don’t remember most of elementary school. I remember where I went, what teachers, but nothing too specific. I do remember being called “weird” a lot…a whole lot. Little did my prepubescent peers know that that word would have a long term effect on me that leads me to this very moment. Also, it had led to me being considered “crazy” and/or “psychotic” where deep down I am maniacally planning against them. I really don’t have a part of elementary school, as all remnants have been practically blown away. Now, those that chose to be vicious as children have developed into scum that feeds off the attention they so desparately strive to gain. Thinking it matters what you look like and what all the others think of themselves. In retrospect, I don’t need to plan against them, I already screwed them over when I decided I didn’t want to be them. Of course, they probably think they same of me, but the difference is that they care and I don’t. Thanks elementary school, I hate you and like you all at the same time.
>> Oh yeah, because putting stuff online isn’t trying to attention at all. This prompt is one of those that I originally got in class, had to rewrite but didn’t have any inspiration for it. Then I made myself get inspired because…well…I haven’t talked to my inspirerers in awhile. ‘Tis true, I don’t remember much of elementary school and I guess I don’t want to. Can you you remember elementary school (to see if I’m just crazy or not)?
Jul 1, 2005
High Levels Of Hormones And Love, Is There A Difference?
“The Ultimate Driving Machine…”
The ultimate driving machine is the will to live for success. The success is defined by the one holding the drive whether it means success defined by the majority or to feel the as if one is finally accomplished in the yearning. No matter the age, sex, mental capability, there is a strive to exist as one wants to be. A self-validation is what some require while others depend upon the ones surrounding them. Self-validation leaves behind the ones who want to crush the machine but are still alone in their will. The dependant ones hear all that is said and decide how it will effect them on how they will fall or triumph. Even yet, there is still the burning sensation in all to become all they have wanted to strive for no matter what. The ultimate driving machine is the yearning, the striving, the burning, the will.
>> I obtained the prompt from Mocoy, yeah! Also, I take back the comment about journals getting shorter when I make them up, this is really short. If this journal doesn’t answer and questions, then we’ll say an auto-responsive robotic car is the ultimate driving machine. Batteries included. Gave Giggles and Mocoy their much deserved cookies and I still have some chocolate chips left over…mmmm…unfortunately some of them decided to melt, fuse together, then freeze into an oddly shaped bar. Oh well, it’s chocolate all the same. One more thing, nothing on Monday because it’s, well, July 4th. Thank you come again Tuesday.
The ultimate driving machine is the will to live for success. The success is defined by the one holding the drive whether it means success defined by the majority or to feel the as if one is finally accomplished in the yearning. No matter the age, sex, mental capability, there is a strive to exist as one wants to be. A self-validation is what some require while others depend upon the ones surrounding them. Self-validation leaves behind the ones who want to crush the machine but are still alone in their will. The dependant ones hear all that is said and decide how it will effect them on how they will fall or triumph. Even yet, there is still the burning sensation in all to become all they have wanted to strive for no matter what. The ultimate driving machine is the yearning, the striving, the burning, the will.
>> I obtained the prompt from Mocoy, yeah! Also, I take back the comment about journals getting shorter when I make them up, this is really short. If this journal doesn’t answer and questions, then we’ll say an auto-responsive robotic car is the ultimate driving machine. Batteries included. Gave Giggles and Mocoy their much deserved cookies and I still have some chocolate chips left over…mmmm…unfortunately some of them decided to melt, fuse together, then freeze into an oddly shaped bar. Oh well, it’s chocolate all the same. One more thing, nothing on Monday because it’s, well, July 4th. Thank you come again Tuesday.
Jun 30, 2005
Courtney Killed Kurt, Tell The People!!
“What Amuses You?”
A psychedelic slinky. Making conversations awkward for others by saying some weird stuff, for instance “If strawberries were girls, I would make love to them.” Listening to music obnoxiously loud and have people finish their sentence only to have me say “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over my obnoxiously loud and ‘angry’ music.” My friends amuse me in a variety of ways from blowing stuff up *coughKungfuBobcough* to just having other forms of fun…that’s just about everybody else since no one blows anything up. Squirrels amuse me, I want to capture one day just so I can watch it run around all day. In fact, I’m watching one right now out my window, it looks like it’s going to pounce to make a kill or something…oh, there it goes…wonder what it killed? Watching stupid people try and fail horrendously because all they had to do was just put the tiniest effort into something. The thought of a rabbit riding a tricycle, others don’t see it, but I do because they’re all just crazy. Living up to people’s expectations of me being “psycho,” like when asked to give a verb, I say “incinerate,” or “nuke.” Showing people my right thumb for the first time, that’s probably the best of all watching all their faces and reactions. I’m quite sure there’s more, but I can’t think of it all and if I did, this would go on for awhile.
>> Came up with this prompt while listening to a Nirvana song after the line “I wish I was more like you, easily amused.” So far, I’m don’t think I’m doing too bad coming up with these on my own, wish someone else would put in their input. Remember, tell the people.
A psychedelic slinky. Making conversations awkward for others by saying some weird stuff, for instance “If strawberries were girls, I would make love to them.” Listening to music obnoxiously loud and have people finish their sentence only to have me say “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over my obnoxiously loud and ‘angry’ music.” My friends amuse me in a variety of ways from blowing stuff up *coughKungfuBobcough* to just having other forms of fun…that’s just about everybody else since no one blows anything up. Squirrels amuse me, I want to capture one day just so I can watch it run around all day. In fact, I’m watching one right now out my window, it looks like it’s going to pounce to make a kill or something…oh, there it goes…wonder what it killed? Watching stupid people try and fail horrendously because all they had to do was just put the tiniest effort into something. The thought of a rabbit riding a tricycle, others don’t see it, but I do because they’re all just crazy. Living up to people’s expectations of me being “psycho,” like when asked to give a verb, I say “incinerate,” or “nuke.” Showing people my right thumb for the first time, that’s probably the best of all watching all their faces and reactions. I’m quite sure there’s more, but I can’t think of it all and if I did, this would go on for awhile.
>> Came up with this prompt while listening to a Nirvana song after the line “I wish I was more like you, easily amused.” So far, I’m don’t think I’m doing too bad coming up with these on my own, wish someone else would put in their input. Remember, tell the people.
Jun 29, 2005
*Insert Funny Noise*
“What I Need The Most…”
Apparently, what I need the most is a girlfriend. Just about everyone I know has at least said once to me “You need a girlfriend.” When asked why, I get the answer that sums up to about “Gives you something to do.” I don’t know about everyone else, but I don’t think that’s how it works. Somehow, I get the feeling you don’t get a girlfriend (>>boyfriend for you ladies) just because. Then again, my opinion isn’t very fair, considering I have never had a girlfriend and will most likely die wondering the Earth’s horizon. So, what do I think I need the most? I can honestly say I don’t know, but maybe that’s what I need to the most, is to know what I need the most. Does that completely defeat itself or does that make sense? I think I need a GPS that way I know exactly where I’m lost whilst wondering the Earth’s horizon. I could travel place to place taking over the world the long way. Gain the loyalty of all the small places because they have a deeper, righteous fury inside of them. I have come to a conclusion! What I need the most is an attention span to last longer than about three or so sentences.
>> What do you think I need the most? What do you think you need the most? What do others think you need the most? Why do we care? I came up with this on my own…I don’t know how…I was looking at my previous journals and then suddenly without warning a corncob shot to the front of my head with this prompt. Is it just me, or do journals seem…shorter when I make them up on my own?
Apparently, what I need the most is a girlfriend. Just about everyone I know has at least said once to me “You need a girlfriend.” When asked why, I get the answer that sums up to about “Gives you something to do.” I don’t know about everyone else, but I don’t think that’s how it works. Somehow, I get the feeling you don’t get a girlfriend (>>boyfriend for you ladies) just because. Then again, my opinion isn’t very fair, considering I have never had a girlfriend and will most likely die wondering the Earth’s horizon. So, what do I think I need the most? I can honestly say I don’t know, but maybe that’s what I need to the most, is to know what I need the most. Does that completely defeat itself or does that make sense? I think I need a GPS that way I know exactly where I’m lost whilst wondering the Earth’s horizon. I could travel place to place taking over the world the long way. Gain the loyalty of all the small places because they have a deeper, righteous fury inside of them. I have come to a conclusion! What I need the most is an attention span to last longer than about three or so sentences.
>> What do you think I need the most? What do you think you need the most? What do others think you need the most? Why do we care? I came up with this on my own…I don’t know how…I was looking at my previous journals and then suddenly without warning a corncob shot to the front of my head with this prompt. Is it just me, or do journals seem…shorter when I make them up on my own?
Jun 28, 2005
YOU Need A Girlfriend!
“When Inspiration Is Needed Most…”
When inspiration is needed most, I lie around listening to and lip syncing to the radio. That’s right, I’m willing to admit, are you? I usually think about lots of stuff to get me inspired, but none of it really works. In times when I really need help, I call the Super Friends!…I mean…I ask my friends for some help. Unless they suddenly want to be called Wonder Woman or Aquaman, I’ll refrain from calling them the Super Friends. They usually say something, I won’t think too much about it, then something randomly pops out of nowhere in the cornfield that is my mind. So, basically, I ask for help, they say something, I don’t really listen, then I get inspiration. Wow…poor friends…oh well. Also, if I get started on something I’ll turn on the music on my computer and start to rock out while typing/writing/sitting on or at my computer. Though, typically, this isn’t a good idea as I start to type down the words and get lost where I’m going with stuff. A couple times I have completely forgotten what I was doing. For instance, this about when I need inspiration the most, it has gone nowhere, so I’ll just stop now.
>> Yeah, I came up with this on my own, doing just what I said. Thinking about nothing and thought I need inspiration and that’s basically how I got this prompt. Kind of weak I’m going to sing the doom song now I know, but it worked this time. Now I shall call the Justice Friends…I mean the Super Friends…ah forget it. Is it just me, or does this journal deally (moo) seem a little short?
When inspiration is needed most, I lie around listening to and lip syncing to the radio. That’s right, I’m willing to admit, are you? I usually think about lots of stuff to get me inspired, but none of it really works. In times when I really need help, I call the Super Friends!…I mean…I ask my friends for some help. Unless they suddenly want to be called Wonder Woman or Aquaman, I’ll refrain from calling them the Super Friends. They usually say something, I won’t think too much about it, then something randomly pops out of nowhere in the cornfield that is my mind. So, basically, I ask for help, they say something, I don’t really listen, then I get inspiration. Wow…poor friends…oh well. Also, if I get started on something I’ll turn on the music on my computer and start to rock out while typing/writing/sitting on or at my computer. Though, typically, this isn’t a good idea as I start to type down the words and get lost where I’m going with stuff. A couple times I have completely forgotten what I was doing. For instance, this about when I need inspiration the most, it has gone nowhere, so I’ll just stop now.
>> Yeah, I came up with this on my own, doing just what I said. Thinking about nothing and thought I need inspiration and that’s basically how I got this prompt. Kind of weak I’m going to sing the doom song now I know, but it worked this time. Now I shall call the Justice Friends…I mean the Super Friends…ah forget it. Is it just me, or does this journal deally (moo) seem a little short?
Jun 27, 2005
I Have Returned...That's Right, Cross The Street So You Don't Have To Deal With Me
“Do You Believe The Quality Of Words Is More Important Than The Quantity?”
Yes. Though, what I’d really like to talk about is the ultimate idea for the ultimate universe. First, we must create the ultimate universe where people are purple and purple is the is the color of the sky. That is correct, the universe is purple and made of blue-flavored-watered down-mayonnaise. The stars are naturally red making the sky purple. Also, there are not evil animals, only insanely evil purplers (purple people) who control the animals to do good *shrugs*. Purplers also drive around large disk shaped frisbees for ultimate aerodynamic ability. The Corporate Disks Of Hullo (the frisbees) will come in a variety of hues of a variety of colors at the touch of a feather…seriously. There are no buildings, only Builts that stand from 40 to 382 snorkels high, yes, snorkels. Purplers can also fly to any planet they wish, not very well as they would probably drown in mayonnaise without the proper scuba equipment. Purplers can’t fly that fast, but since it’s mayonnaise and Fig’s laws apply, they can start to haul really fast. Entering the atmosphere is no problem since no purpler has stayed alive long enough to attempt such a feat. The military is a punch of potatoes carved to look like real purplers but obviously aren’t. The have the accuracy equivalent to the ears of a hawk. We’re still not sure which is better, we’re praying that it’s the military. Now that we have established the ultimate universe, we must create the ultimate idea for this universe. The ultimate idea is…well…our universe. Congradulations, you’re only an idea of some random purpler. Have fun.
>> Got this prompt idea from my bro, who doesn’t know it yet and won’t for awhile. Oh yeah, I’m back……pretty sure you guys got that as I have talked to all two of my readers, oh yeah, baby yeah. Last week was all…11 years old, 12 years olds, and I got tired of the people close to my age. So, I’m all uber-excited to talk to others, so much that I could hug them, but I have yet to see their physical form…so you know. Pretty sure there’s more that needs to be said, but my brain isn’t working porperly.
Yes. Though, what I’d really like to talk about is the ultimate idea for the ultimate universe. First, we must create the ultimate universe where people are purple and purple is the is the color of the sky. That is correct, the universe is purple and made of blue-flavored-watered down-mayonnaise. The stars are naturally red making the sky purple. Also, there are not evil animals, only insanely evil purplers (purple people) who control the animals to do good *shrugs*. Purplers also drive around large disk shaped frisbees for ultimate aerodynamic ability. The Corporate Disks Of Hullo (the frisbees) will come in a variety of hues of a variety of colors at the touch of a feather…seriously. There are no buildings, only Builts that stand from 40 to 382 snorkels high, yes, snorkels. Purplers can also fly to any planet they wish, not very well as they would probably drown in mayonnaise without the proper scuba equipment. Purplers can’t fly that fast, but since it’s mayonnaise and Fig’s laws apply, they can start to haul really fast. Entering the atmosphere is no problem since no purpler has stayed alive long enough to attempt such a feat. The military is a punch of potatoes carved to look like real purplers but obviously aren’t. The have the accuracy equivalent to the ears of a hawk. We’re still not sure which is better, we’re praying that it’s the military. Now that we have established the ultimate universe, we must create the ultimate idea for this universe. The ultimate idea is…well…our universe. Congradulations, you’re only an idea of some random purpler. Have fun.
>> Got this prompt idea from my bro, who doesn’t know it yet and won’t for awhile. Oh yeah, I’m back……pretty sure you guys got that as I have talked to all two of my readers, oh yeah, baby yeah. Last week was all…11 years old, 12 years olds, and I got tired of the people close to my age. So, I’m all uber-excited to talk to others, so much that I could hug them, but I have yet to see their physical form…so you know. Pretty sure there’s more that needs to be said, but my brain isn’t working porperly.
Jun 16, 2005
Advertising Influences Everyone
“How Much Am I Influenced By Advertising?”
I’d say I’m influenced by advertising a lot. I’m influenced to change the channel, radio station, look for a different shirt, ignore the label and see if the pants fit, and deciding whether or not the clothes will be expensive. I don’t want to here about how much better this cleaner is than some other cleaner made by the same company. I listen to the radio to hear obnoxiously loud and ‘angry’ music, not to hear how Tom Shane can provide you with the best jewelry. Clothes…I only go and buy these when there is a sale and its not plastered with brand name logos. I want to wear something that fits and stuff, but I don’t want to become a walking billboard. Now, pants…that’s kind of a different story, it fits, it looks fine, and won’t leave a smell of rotten eggs wherever I go, I’ll wear it. Now with everything else in the world that we “need” and is better than all others, I’ll just buy the cheap stuff out of spite and the ability to save money. Also, to find out about something, I’ll just wait for some other sucker…uh…friend to try it out and we’ll see how it works out.
>> One of those old crummy prompts, but now its all pretty. Well, not that pretty. Yeah, I said last Friday I probably wouldn’t put anything up…oh well, here’s two for the week because I just need something to do. For certain, there is going to be nothing next week all week. By the time you are reading this, I have already left, how do you I know you may ask? I’m just that good.
I’d say I’m influenced by advertising a lot. I’m influenced to change the channel, radio station, look for a different shirt, ignore the label and see if the pants fit, and deciding whether or not the clothes will be expensive. I don’t want to here about how much better this cleaner is than some other cleaner made by the same company. I listen to the radio to hear obnoxiously loud and ‘angry’ music, not to hear how Tom Shane can provide you with the best jewelry. Clothes…I only go and buy these when there is a sale and its not plastered with brand name logos. I want to wear something that fits and stuff, but I don’t want to become a walking billboard. Now, pants…that’s kind of a different story, it fits, it looks fine, and won’t leave a smell of rotten eggs wherever I go, I’ll wear it. Now with everything else in the world that we “need” and is better than all others, I’ll just buy the cheap stuff out of spite and the ability to save money. Also, to find out about something, I’ll just wait for some other sucker…uh…friend to try it out and we’ll see how it works out.
>> One of those old crummy prompts, but now its all pretty. Well, not that pretty. Yeah, I said last Friday I probably wouldn’t put anything up…oh well, here’s two for the week because I just need something to do. For certain, there is going to be nothing next week all week. By the time you are reading this, I have already left, how do you I know you may ask? I’m just that good.
Jun 14, 2005
I Don't Have A Title
“If I Were To Write A Book…”
If I were to write a book, it would be sci-fi and I would make it legendary to the point of Ender’s Game or possibly Dune. It would go a little something like this:
Captain Hilk looked out of the large viewport unto the black nothingness of space lit with small white dots of stars reaching into infinity. A small grey planet lay ahead, half cast in shadow from its sun. A thin man dressed in a blue uniform with a wide green stripe running down his shirt approached Hilk.
What does this scientist want now? Hilk thought to himself.
“Sir, this planet has three satellites, and two rings that aren’t parallel, almost perpendicular.” The scientist said with almost whiny voice. “The improbability of such is…phenomenal! Also, the planet the speed of the planet’s rotation is matched with its revolution such that a single day takes fourteen Coalition years.”
So? The details of the planet didn’t matter, the idea that this planet…what was the name…ah yes, Diturne has openly opposed the Coalition for many years and now they will pay with force, Hilk thought ignoring the scientist.
Hilk noticed the ship had come into close proximity of Diturne, the two rings shined from the reflecting sunlight. The outer ring was wide and stretched for what seemed endlessly fading into nothing. The inner ring…something was strange with the inner ring, it was almost perpendicular to the outer one, yes, but it didn’t seem to made of thousands upon millions of debris like the outer one. It seemed to be made of one large piece…yes, it was, it metallic and it gave off a green glow onto the side of Diturne that faced the sun. The inner ring was artificial and man made, it seemed to give lighted part of Diturne a livable atmosphere. Suddenly, the inner ring moved with frightening speed, it turned so that its side was facing directly at the ship’s viewport and it had rotated over almost a third of the planet’s surface in what seemed to be hardly any time. Then a moon seemingly slingshot itself parallel to the inner ring, it had was a dark red color with scarred by multiple craters. Most distinquished was the two large gun batteries on opposite sides of the moon.
Holy…that moon must be 2800 nullens in diameter, the gun batteries must be at least as long as its radius, and those things are pointing at us, Hilk’s mind raced with worry at the large defensive turret aimed at them.
The batteries started to glow with an intense blue radiance. One battery shot a large blue beam at the ship next to Hilk’s, it shot through and into another ship, then into nothing. The other battery shot into Hilk’s viewport, one last thought ran through the stiff captain at the oncoming blue death, We have underestimated…
>> That sounded a lot better in bed at 4 in the morning, oh well, it was fun to write. I got the idea of the character in question’s thoughts from the ultimate book Dune. Everything else I made up on my own. The planet’s name is pronounced “Die-turn”, from what I remember “di” is two in science (‘learned’ that in 7th grade, yes I also know I could use “bi” but I didn’t want to) and since there are only what seems to be two parts of the planet. I used “turne” from the word “nocturnal” because…well, the dark side of the planet and such. Also, the word "nullen" cannot be translated to English directly with just one word, it is a measurement that comes to about 4,000 feet in one "nullen". Yeah, I’m a geek/nerd/dork/loser/outcast/“that guy”/etc., but I don’t care. Sorry for any mistakes, I can't use "Tab" for some reason, so anything being said or thought is just separated an extra line.
If I were to write a book, it would be sci-fi and I would make it legendary to the point of Ender’s Game or possibly Dune. It would go a little something like this:
Captain Hilk looked out of the large viewport unto the black nothingness of space lit with small white dots of stars reaching into infinity. A small grey planet lay ahead, half cast in shadow from its sun. A thin man dressed in a blue uniform with a wide green stripe running down his shirt approached Hilk.
What does this scientist want now? Hilk thought to himself.
“Sir, this planet has three satellites, and two rings that aren’t parallel, almost perpendicular.” The scientist said with almost whiny voice. “The improbability of such is…phenomenal! Also, the planet the speed of the planet’s rotation is matched with its revolution such that a single day takes fourteen Coalition years.”
So? The details of the planet didn’t matter, the idea that this planet…what was the name…ah yes, Diturne has openly opposed the Coalition for many years and now they will pay with force, Hilk thought ignoring the scientist.
Hilk noticed the ship had come into close proximity of Diturne, the two rings shined from the reflecting sunlight. The outer ring was wide and stretched for what seemed endlessly fading into nothing. The inner ring…something was strange with the inner ring, it was almost perpendicular to the outer one, yes, but it didn’t seem to made of thousands upon millions of debris like the outer one. It seemed to be made of one large piece…yes, it was, it metallic and it gave off a green glow onto the side of Diturne that faced the sun. The inner ring was artificial and man made, it seemed to give lighted part of Diturne a livable atmosphere. Suddenly, the inner ring moved with frightening speed, it turned so that its side was facing directly at the ship’s viewport and it had rotated over almost a third of the planet’s surface in what seemed to be hardly any time. Then a moon seemingly slingshot itself parallel to the inner ring, it had was a dark red color with scarred by multiple craters. Most distinquished was the two large gun batteries on opposite sides of the moon.
Holy…that moon must be 2800 nullens in diameter, the gun batteries must be at least as long as its radius, and those things are pointing at us, Hilk’s mind raced with worry at the large defensive turret aimed at them.
The batteries started to glow with an intense blue radiance. One battery shot a large blue beam at the ship next to Hilk’s, it shot through and into another ship, then into nothing. The other battery shot into Hilk’s viewport, one last thought ran through the stiff captain at the oncoming blue death, We have underestimated…
>> That sounded a lot better in bed at 4 in the morning, oh well, it was fun to write. I got the idea of the character in question’s thoughts from the ultimate book Dune. Everything else I made up on my own. The planet’s name is pronounced “Die-turn”, from what I remember “di” is two in science (‘learned’ that in 7th grade, yes I also know I could use “bi” but I didn’t want to) and since there are only what seems to be two parts of the planet. I used “turne” from the word “nocturnal” because…well, the dark side of the planet and such. Also, the word "nullen" cannot be translated to English directly with just one word, it is a measurement that comes to about 4,000 feet in one "nullen". Yeah, I’m a geek/nerd/dork/loser/outcast/“that guy”/etc., but I don’t care. Sorry for any mistakes, I can't use "Tab" for some reason, so anything being said or thought is just separated an extra line.
Jun 11, 2005
'Cause Sad Songs And Waltzes Aren't Selling This Year
Here Are The Answers For The Lyric To Song Contest
1.“Short Skirt, Long Jacket” by Cake
2.“Bullet With Butterfly Wings” by The Smashing Pumpkins
3.“Killing in the Name of” by Rage Against The Machine
4.“In the End” by Linkin Park
5.“Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus
6.“Heaven is a Halfpipe” by OPM
7.“Lithium” by Nirvana
8.“Minority” by Green Day
9.“Loser” by Beck
10.“All the Small Things” by Blink182
11.“Undone-The Sweater Song” by Weezer
12.“Freak on a Leash” by Korn
13.“Harder to Breathe” by Maroon 5
14.“Float On” by Modest Mouse
15.“The Middle” by JimmyEatWorld
16.“Vindicated” by Dashboard Confessional
17.“My Hero” by Foo Fighters
18.“Wish You Were Here” by Incubus
19.“What I Got” by Sublime
20.“Fat Lip” by Sum41
21.“Self Esteem” by Offspring
22.“Blister in the Sun” by The Violent Femmes
23.“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers
24.“Chop Suey!” by System of a Down
>> These were made to be relatively easy to find out. A couple songs are old and forgotten, but are still freaking cool to here every now and then. Oh, I’d better name the winner…it was Mocoy, besides she was the only one to enter. Apparently, she’s the only who wants uber-brownie points (bragging rights) and can turn them in for cookies and such. Some of these songs I put up because I grew up to while playing video games (Teenage Dirtbag for one) and others because they’re just that cool.
1.“Short Skirt, Long Jacket” by Cake
2.“Bullet With Butterfly Wings” by The Smashing Pumpkins
3.“Killing in the Name of” by Rage Against The Machine
4.“In the End” by Linkin Park
5.“Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus
6.“Heaven is a Halfpipe” by OPM
7.“Lithium” by Nirvana
8.“Minority” by Green Day
9.“Loser” by Beck
10.“All the Small Things” by Blink182
11.“Undone-The Sweater Song” by Weezer
12.“Freak on a Leash” by Korn
13.“Harder to Breathe” by Maroon 5
14.“Float On” by Modest Mouse
15.“The Middle” by JimmyEatWorld
16.“Vindicated” by Dashboard Confessional
17.“My Hero” by Foo Fighters
18.“Wish You Were Here” by Incubus
19.“What I Got” by Sublime
20.“Fat Lip” by Sum41
21.“Self Esteem” by Offspring
22.“Blister in the Sun” by The Violent Femmes
23.“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers
24.“Chop Suey!” by System of a Down
>> These were made to be relatively easy to find out. A couple songs are old and forgotten, but are still freaking cool to here every now and then. Oh, I’d better name the winner…it was Mocoy, besides she was the only one to enter. Apparently, she’s the only who wants uber-brownie points (bragging rights) and can turn them in for cookies and such. Some of these songs I put up because I grew up to while playing video games (Teenage Dirtbag for one) and others because they’re just that cool.
Jun 10, 2005
Schfifty-Five!
“Somethings That Are Pointless…”
A sphere. Taking turns naming a nut to the point where you can’t name anymore letting the other person win. A coordinate plane containing no points. Okay, lots of things are pointless and a lot do have points but there are too many to name. So, instead I’ll think of something so insanely stupid and baffling, it will blow your mind…out of your ears. A ball is rolling, it knocks over a domino, in succession 53 more dominoes fall over, thus hitting a button that activates an electrical charge igniting the hair spray in a tube, launching a potato 68 feet into the air, the spud hits a passing car, the car wheels out of control suddenly off a cliff onto a boat carrying 5,803 bags of sand. The boat floats to the coast of Portugal where 102 bulls suddenly charge at it, rendering themselves unconscious. All the mean while I’m eating a donut. If you can find the point in that, you have some major analytical problems.
>> Apparently, the Literary Helper award goes to Giggles, why, because she said so. Now you’d think Mocoy would have earned this reward about…I don’t know how many times, but when asked about this Giggles response was “She doesn’t have the literary genius that I do.” Please don’t kill me. Now onto other things! First, about the contest with the lyrics from songs, I’ll post those tomorrow. Second, I may not post anything for two weeks, next week I’m not so sure, I might post some stuff, but probably not much. Now the week of June 20th to the 24th, definitely nothing, I will be gone and I am not making up for it. So deal with it.
A sphere. Taking turns naming a nut to the point where you can’t name anymore letting the other person win. A coordinate plane containing no points. Okay, lots of things are pointless and a lot do have points but there are too many to name. So, instead I’ll think of something so insanely stupid and baffling, it will blow your mind…out of your ears. A ball is rolling, it knocks over a domino, in succession 53 more dominoes fall over, thus hitting a button that activates an electrical charge igniting the hair spray in a tube, launching a potato 68 feet into the air, the spud hits a passing car, the car wheels out of control suddenly off a cliff onto a boat carrying 5,803 bags of sand. The boat floats to the coast of Portugal where 102 bulls suddenly charge at it, rendering themselves unconscious. All the mean while I’m eating a donut. If you can find the point in that, you have some major analytical problems.
>> Apparently, the Literary Helper award goes to Giggles, why, because she said so. Now you’d think Mocoy would have earned this reward about…I don’t know how many times, but when asked about this Giggles response was “She doesn’t have the literary genius that I do.” Please don’t kill me. Now onto other things! First, about the contest with the lyrics from songs, I’ll post those tomorrow. Second, I may not post anything for two weeks, next week I’m not so sure, I might post some stuff, but probably not much. Now the week of June 20th to the 24th, definitely nothing, I will be gone and I am not making up for it. So deal with it.
Jun 9, 2005
Commies...I Mean Proties!
“If I Started A Commune…”
If I started a commune, I’m obvouisly insane. First of all, you can’t really start a commune more than you mutually agree upon it. I would have to agree with a small group of people, probably guys. Girls…despite me not knowing much about how they work and think, I get the feeling they wouldn’t like the idea. So, it would be very lonely and no way to actually continue our…commune…I don’t like that word, let’s use……procatri (prolonged camping trip). Now that we’ve established that there is no way others are going to join the procatri, I would just have to do everything myself. This is where the insane part comes in, since I’ll have no one to join, I’ll have to make up little red, fuzzy people who have three fingers and a thumb. I guess this would be more of a hallucinating kind of thing, but I will keep telling my little happy campers to work on something which will fulfill the definition of insanity; doing something over and over expecting a different result, in my case a giant tree fort with fully active camouflage and the growing of organic weapons getting done. Unfortunely, I wouldn’t really fit into this procatri either, so I would have to leave. In which case I would come the horrible reality that I am now in a great big white commune sort of place. I guess that wouldn’t be bad, I would just pocket my pills and just live life as easily as possible. For the greater good!
>> Mocoy gave me this one, wasn’t so sure about it but it appears to have worked out. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be let in anyone’s commune mainly because of whole world domination plot. Would you have a commune?…and would you let me in? Pfft, what am I saying, I got rejected by little red people that I made up. Ah well, I guess I’ll have to lead my life normally, well, normal for me.
If I started a commune, I’m obvouisly insane. First of all, you can’t really start a commune more than you mutually agree upon it. I would have to agree with a small group of people, probably guys. Girls…despite me not knowing much about how they work and think, I get the feeling they wouldn’t like the idea. So, it would be very lonely and no way to actually continue our…commune…I don’t like that word, let’s use……procatri (prolonged camping trip). Now that we’ve established that there is no way others are going to join the procatri, I would just have to do everything myself. This is where the insane part comes in, since I’ll have no one to join, I’ll have to make up little red, fuzzy people who have three fingers and a thumb. I guess this would be more of a hallucinating kind of thing, but I will keep telling my little happy campers to work on something which will fulfill the definition of insanity; doing something over and over expecting a different result, in my case a giant tree fort with fully active camouflage and the growing of organic weapons getting done. Unfortunely, I wouldn’t really fit into this procatri either, so I would have to leave. In which case I would come the horrible reality that I am now in a great big white commune sort of place. I guess that wouldn’t be bad, I would just pocket my pills and just live life as easily as possible. For the greater good!
>> Mocoy gave me this one, wasn’t so sure about it but it appears to have worked out. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be let in anyone’s commune mainly because of whole world domination plot. Would you have a commune?…and would you let me in? Pfft, what am I saying, I got rejected by little red people that I made up. Ah well, I guess I’ll have to lead my life normally, well, normal for me.
Jun 8, 2005
Power Rangers Are Pathetic Against The Almighty Smoke Bomb
“A Lesson I Learned From An Event…”
To fully understand my lesson, we have to start at the event. It all happened one summer day, about a week after the July 4th fireworks had stopped. My friends, Stapler and Kungfu Bob, and I were sitting in Kungfu Bob’s basement doing nothing at all. Then, Kungfu Bob remembered he had a stash of smoke bombs and we could start lighting those, but what are smoke bombs without black cats? Of course, I had the black cats sitting in my room, so I quickly grabbed those without remaining suspicious. Well, ordinary smoke bombs are no fun, so we decided to cut out holes in two little footballs. We duct taped the smoke bombs with just the fuse hangin into the holes, lit them, and proceeded to play catch. If you’ve ever touched the smoke of a smoke bomb, then you know hot shrapnel flys out as well and it burns. It became more of a game of The Matrix than catch. Soon the smokes bombs went out and we were back to square two, what to do with the other explosives. Explode something of course. Kungfu Bob started digging in his closet, found a white power ranger doll about 12 inches in height. We proceeded to cut holes in the power ranger and sticking black cats in them. We also put smoke bombs in the zipper on the back (just like the power rangers on TV!), lit them all and watch joyously. Wherever a black cat exploded, stuffing shot out and it swelled twice its normal size. The smoke bomb melted the power ranger, which was pretty cool on its own. You’d think that was enough, you obviously think wrong. We started pouring Zippo lighter fluid all over the power ranger, until it was a massive wad of melted polyester with a recognizable arm and leg. This is about where we stopped, so we started combing the yard for anything else to possibly explode. Suddenly, without warning, a loud POP rang out. It was to my left and Stapler’s right, we cupped our ears because it was so loud. We turned our heads to see Kungfu Bob doing a dance and waving his hand around. Yes, he had lit a black cat while holding it, it was freaking hilarious. Stapler and I couldn’t hold back our laughter while Kungfu Bob kept waving his hand around yelling “It burns!” Eventually, Kungfu Bob got cold water on his finger, he couldn’t bend his index finger at the second joint it was so swollen. This is when we stopped and just played with sparklers. You may ask, what’s the lesson in all this? If you are ever bored out of your skull, you can always go out and blow something up. That may not seem like a very good lesson, but no one ever said anything about a “good” lesson.
>> Yes, this actually happened, yes, it was hilarious. I had to cut it a little short because the length of this beast. I actually got the idea for this prompt from an assignment I had to do. I had to write a paper about an event in my life where I learned a lesson. Of course, I had nothing spectacular so I wrote this event and put a pretty bad lesson at the end. Some kids were angry, but the requirements never asked for a “good” lesson, the teacher was smiling. Strangely enough, the class I wrote this for was the class that also had all the journal prompts. Circles I live in. Yeah, I made this prompt up all on my own, huzzah.
To fully understand my lesson, we have to start at the event. It all happened one summer day, about a week after the July 4th fireworks had stopped. My friends, Stapler and Kungfu Bob, and I were sitting in Kungfu Bob’s basement doing nothing at all. Then, Kungfu Bob remembered he had a stash of smoke bombs and we could start lighting those, but what are smoke bombs without black cats? Of course, I had the black cats sitting in my room, so I quickly grabbed those without remaining suspicious. Well, ordinary smoke bombs are no fun, so we decided to cut out holes in two little footballs. We duct taped the smoke bombs with just the fuse hangin into the holes, lit them, and proceeded to play catch. If you’ve ever touched the smoke of a smoke bomb, then you know hot shrapnel flys out as well and it burns. It became more of a game of The Matrix than catch. Soon the smokes bombs went out and we were back to square two, what to do with the other explosives. Explode something of course. Kungfu Bob started digging in his closet, found a white power ranger doll about 12 inches in height. We proceeded to cut holes in the power ranger and sticking black cats in them. We also put smoke bombs in the zipper on the back (just like the power rangers on TV!), lit them all and watch joyously. Wherever a black cat exploded, stuffing shot out and it swelled twice its normal size. The smoke bomb melted the power ranger, which was pretty cool on its own. You’d think that was enough, you obviously think wrong. We started pouring Zippo lighter fluid all over the power ranger, until it was a massive wad of melted polyester with a recognizable arm and leg. This is about where we stopped, so we started combing the yard for anything else to possibly explode. Suddenly, without warning, a loud POP rang out. It was to my left and Stapler’s right, we cupped our ears because it was so loud. We turned our heads to see Kungfu Bob doing a dance and waving his hand around. Yes, he had lit a black cat while holding it, it was freaking hilarious. Stapler and I couldn’t hold back our laughter while Kungfu Bob kept waving his hand around yelling “It burns!” Eventually, Kungfu Bob got cold water on his finger, he couldn’t bend his index finger at the second joint it was so swollen. This is when we stopped and just played with sparklers. You may ask, what’s the lesson in all this? If you are ever bored out of your skull, you can always go out and blow something up. That may not seem like a very good lesson, but no one ever said anything about a “good” lesson.
>> Yes, this actually happened, yes, it was hilarious. I had to cut it a little short because the length of this beast. I actually got the idea for this prompt from an assignment I had to do. I had to write a paper about an event in my life where I learned a lesson. Of course, I had nothing spectacular so I wrote this event and put a pretty bad lesson at the end. Some kids were angry, but the requirements never asked for a “good” lesson, the teacher was smiling. Strangely enough, the class I wrote this for was the class that also had all the journal prompts. Circles I live in. Yeah, I made this prompt up all on my own, huzzah.
Jun 7, 2005
S.P.S.
“If The World Were Perfect”
If the world were perfect, then we let it slip by without notice or care. The world is obviously not perfect, never really was, and never really be. A perfect world is undefinable. Palm trees singing, pixies dancing, and everyone holding hands may sound perfect to someone, but extraodinarily annoying to someone else. Since I can’t define a perfect world, I’ll define the world if I ruled it. The law enforcement would consist of strategically placed snipers. You’re walking along, eating a candy bar, and you throw the wrapper on the ground BAM you get smacked with a bean bag with a fee attached to it. Fear the law! The mail would be air tubes covering long distances. You know those tubes they have at the bank? Yeah, those tubes except all across a country. All the countries would pretty much stay the same, except they just have to worry about a higher power that can send the whole world after them. Transportation would consist of, yes you guessed it, genetically altered super rabbits! Made to carry, jump, survive, and clean up after themselves in all kinds of terrain! For now, that’s all you need to know, because then you can adequately prepare yourself.
>> Again, I thank Mocoy. Hmm…I think I’d better lay off the whole world domination, super rabbits scheme. Don’t worry, I’ll have something different tomorrow. I kind of rushed this one because I have to go to the orthodontist’s (pretty sure I spelled that wrong too) this morning. Should probably do something about my hair…oh well…how’s your hair?
If the world were perfect, then we let it slip by without notice or care. The world is obviously not perfect, never really was, and never really be. A perfect world is undefinable. Palm trees singing, pixies dancing, and everyone holding hands may sound perfect to someone, but extraodinarily annoying to someone else. Since I can’t define a perfect world, I’ll define the world if I ruled it. The law enforcement would consist of strategically placed snipers. You’re walking along, eating a candy bar, and you throw the wrapper on the ground BAM you get smacked with a bean bag with a fee attached to it. Fear the law! The mail would be air tubes covering long distances. You know those tubes they have at the bank? Yeah, those tubes except all across a country. All the countries would pretty much stay the same, except they just have to worry about a higher power that can send the whole world after them. Transportation would consist of, yes you guessed it, genetically altered super rabbits! Made to carry, jump, survive, and clean up after themselves in all kinds of terrain! For now, that’s all you need to know, because then you can adequately prepare yourself.
>> Again, I thank Mocoy. Hmm…I think I’d better lay off the whole world domination, super rabbits scheme. Don’t worry, I’ll have something different tomorrow. I kind of rushed this one because I have to go to the orthodontist’s (pretty sure I spelled that wrong too) this morning. Should probably do something about my hair…oh well…how’s your hair?
Jun 6, 2005
Is 'Esteem' A Word On Its Own?
“How Do You Improve Your Self-Esteem?”
Self-Esteem? What about other’s esteem? Seriously, when have we become centered on just ourselves and not helping others. I know I tend to feel a little better when people say good things about me or when I help other people. Most people are “I’m improving MY self-esteem! Screw you! Rarr!” Okay, maybe not those words exactly, but that’s what it seems like. Though, here’s a dilemma, if helping others feel better helps me feel better, isn’t that still improving my self-esteem? There appears to be no way to help others without being self helping as well. I guess there is a difference though, you’re still helping others and not all “I’m the greatest, I don’t need you, I don’t need to help you, I’m the wiz.” Also, I’ve tend to notice that people who have the lowest ‘self-esteem’ tend to be the nicest. Sometimes they’re not, but I would rather hang with them then some other conceited group. That maybe part of the whole feeling better by “helping” others, but it’s just a personal preference. So, I can only conclude to forget about your self, and trying not to come off as some kind of weirdo, help someone else.
>> I came up with journal prompt all on my own. Behold! The first original prompt! Well, it might not be so original, but I was definitely there when I made it up. This journal seems like I’m almost debating it with myself, anyone else have some thoughts? It seems kind of seen from one view (mine) and a little hypocritical (I’m pretty sure I spelled that wrong) since it’s from my view, but I can’t very well speak for other people’s view because I don’t know it. Anyone have thoughts?
Self-Esteem? What about other’s esteem? Seriously, when have we become centered on just ourselves and not helping others. I know I tend to feel a little better when people say good things about me or when I help other people. Most people are “I’m improving MY self-esteem! Screw you! Rarr!” Okay, maybe not those words exactly, but that’s what it seems like. Though, here’s a dilemma, if helping others feel better helps me feel better, isn’t that still improving my self-esteem? There appears to be no way to help others without being self helping as well. I guess there is a difference though, you’re still helping others and not all “I’m the greatest, I don’t need you, I don’t need to help you, I’m the wiz.” Also, I’ve tend to notice that people who have the lowest ‘self-esteem’ tend to be the nicest. Sometimes they’re not, but I would rather hang with them then some other conceited group. That maybe part of the whole feeling better by “helping” others, but it’s just a personal preference. So, I can only conclude to forget about your self, and trying not to come off as some kind of weirdo, help someone else.
>> I came up with journal prompt all on my own. Behold! The first original prompt! Well, it might not be so original, but I was definitely there when I made it up. This journal seems like I’m almost debating it with myself, anyone else have some thoughts? It seems kind of seen from one view (mine) and a little hypocritical (I’m pretty sure I spelled that wrong) since it’s from my view, but I can’t very well speak for other people’s view because I don’t know it. Anyone have thoughts?
Jun 4, 2005
Where Is My Mind?
“All I Ever Needed To Know…”
All I ever needed to know I wish was the only thing I ever knew. There’s so much other useless junk that’s just pointless if not just plain wrong. I blame society and the media because without one, the other cannot exist. Society creates the media and the media defines society. It would be nice though if the media wasn’t full absolute crap. Come on, I turned on the TV yesterday and I saw “Texas Justice,” what is that? It’s a judge, with a “Texan” accent and stupid people with their petty problems. What do they watch in Texas? Alaskan Court? Why can’t more shows be like Sesame Street? It’s positive and full of happy people who don’t sue each other because Oscar the Grouch doesn’t throw out his garbage. The only put up with it because they know there’s a whole lot worse garbage out there *coughJerrySpringercough*. I need math, literature, and the idea of expressing oneself through good intentions. What do you know?
>> Journal number 50 and it’s one big complaint. Seriously though, I’m pretty sure that’s all I need to know, if there is more please feel free to comment. Oh yes, this one of those old prompts I deemed blahblahblah I’m sure you got it down now. Sorry this is updated on Saturday, I had it done yesterday, just not enough time to update it. Now onto nothing, yeah for the weekend.
All I ever needed to know I wish was the only thing I ever knew. There’s so much other useless junk that’s just pointless if not just plain wrong. I blame society and the media because without one, the other cannot exist. Society creates the media and the media defines society. It would be nice though if the media wasn’t full absolute crap. Come on, I turned on the TV yesterday and I saw “Texas Justice,” what is that? It’s a judge, with a “Texan” accent and stupid people with their petty problems. What do they watch in Texas? Alaskan Court? Why can’t more shows be like Sesame Street? It’s positive and full of happy people who don’t sue each other because Oscar the Grouch doesn’t throw out his garbage. The only put up with it because they know there’s a whole lot worse garbage out there *coughJerrySpringercough*. I need math, literature, and the idea of expressing oneself through good intentions. What do you know?
>> Journal number 50 and it’s one big complaint. Seriously though, I’m pretty sure that’s all I need to know, if there is more please feel free to comment. Oh yes, this one of those old prompts I deemed blahblahblah I’m sure you got it down now. Sorry this is updated on Saturday, I had it done yesterday, just not enough time to update it. Now onto nothing, yeah for the weekend.
Jun 2, 2005
Timmy The Wonder Monkey!
“If I Had A Chimp…”
If I had a chimp, I’d be angry because I obviously ordered a monkey. As we all know, chimps are not monkeys. Despite the mix up in the postal service, I would probably still continue with my plan until my monkey arrives in 6 to 8 weeks. I’d name the chimp “Jarold,” as I have yet to meet someone I like with that name and Jarold isn’t a real monkey. I’d train Jarold to pick pocket people, what are they going to do? Arrest a chimpanzee? Also, Jarold would carry around a little squirt gun that looks like a real gun, except spray painted black. So people will be scared and wet in two places! I will also teach Jarold do bag his feces, put it on a random doorstep, light it on fire, ring the doorbell, and run like a monkey (because he’s only a chimpanzee). All of this training will probably take up the 6 to 8 weeks for my monkey to arrive. I will then name the monkey “Timmy” because it would be freaking awesome. Timmy would be taught everything Jarold was and more. Then, I would teach Jarold to follow Timmy everywhere, so whenever Timmy gets in trouble he’ll be taught to look innocent and point to Jarold. Soon, Jarold will probably be taken away and I’ll just have to order a raven in hopes of getting a free crow and raven. I will soon have an army of unconventional animals, I will ride the Emu into battle followed by my most loyal minions.
>> I have to thank Mocoy for this prompt, thanks. I’m not too fond of chimpanzees, which I’m Mocoy didn’t know so it made this journal all the more fun. What would you do if you had a chimp?
If I had a chimp, I’d be angry because I obviously ordered a monkey. As we all know, chimps are not monkeys. Despite the mix up in the postal service, I would probably still continue with my plan until my monkey arrives in 6 to 8 weeks. I’d name the chimp “Jarold,” as I have yet to meet someone I like with that name and Jarold isn’t a real monkey. I’d train Jarold to pick pocket people, what are they going to do? Arrest a chimpanzee? Also, Jarold would carry around a little squirt gun that looks like a real gun, except spray painted black. So people will be scared and wet in two places! I will also teach Jarold do bag his feces, put it on a random doorstep, light it on fire, ring the doorbell, and run like a monkey (because he’s only a chimpanzee). All of this training will probably take up the 6 to 8 weeks for my monkey to arrive. I will then name the monkey “Timmy” because it would be freaking awesome. Timmy would be taught everything Jarold was and more. Then, I would teach Jarold to follow Timmy everywhere, so whenever Timmy gets in trouble he’ll be taught to look innocent and point to Jarold. Soon, Jarold will probably be taken away and I’ll just have to order a raven in hopes of getting a free crow and raven. I will soon have an army of unconventional animals, I will ride the Emu into battle followed by my most loyal minions.
>> I have to thank Mocoy for this prompt, thanks. I’m not too fond of chimpanzees, which I’m Mocoy didn’t know so it made this journal all the more fun. What would you do if you had a chimp?
Jun 1, 2005
...Won't Say Why, If There Is A Why
“When I Feel Most Independent…”
When I feel most independent I’m most certainly not feeling the least independent. Actually, I’m not sure when I feel most independent because my life hasn’t come to its end yet. When it does, then I’ll know when I felt the most independent. Then it will be too late because, well, I’d be dead. Hopefully, I’ll be seen as an independent kind of guy when I die (rhyme was unintentional), because then that means I was always part of a conformity. Then again, if I was always going against the majority, that’s a conformity as well because I’m basing my decisions on the way the majority is working and not really thinking for myself. Brownie points if you can understand that last sentence. I’m going to do something because I want to, need to, or possibly a little of both, not because someone else says they are or are not. I’ll just have to trust my decision until the moment of an avalanche crashing down a mountain arrives. Usually happens with me, thankfully no one else really trusts my decisions that way I can do it most independently and I can say I did something. Whether it leads to cutting my way out of a tree or running away from the recent explosives my friend and I had no relation to…what? These are usually the moments of the avalanche crashing down a mountain, but since I live in Colorado, it’s more of a red mudslide. Though, since I live in the middle of nowhere, it would be better if the metaphor was that of someone throwing a dry dirt clod at me. No matter, I probably will have/had fun. So, do you want to go on top of your roof with strings attached to candy, “fishing” for little kids then squirt them with a squirt gun? Well, you go do that, I’ll come by with a potato gun and apples.
>> This prompt was one of those I deemed too boring to be viewed by the world, so I rewrote here. In case you are wondering, yes, I have actually stayed on top of my roof, with fishing line tied to candy, and a squirt gun full of warm water…on Halloween night. Now I really need help here, if you have any kind of journal prompt that you think would work, please email me…please? Of course, if anyone is there that is, I want you to be independent, but don’t be too independent that you can’t help the occasional weirdo on the internet. Thanks.
When I feel most independent I’m most certainly not feeling the least independent. Actually, I’m not sure when I feel most independent because my life hasn’t come to its end yet. When it does, then I’ll know when I felt the most independent. Then it will be too late because, well, I’d be dead. Hopefully, I’ll be seen as an independent kind of guy when I die (rhyme was unintentional), because then that means I was always part of a conformity. Then again, if I was always going against the majority, that’s a conformity as well because I’m basing my decisions on the way the majority is working and not really thinking for myself. Brownie points if you can understand that last sentence. I’m going to do something because I want to, need to, or possibly a little of both, not because someone else says they are or are not. I’ll just have to trust my decision until the moment of an avalanche crashing down a mountain arrives. Usually happens with me, thankfully no one else really trusts my decisions that way I can do it most independently and I can say I did something. Whether it leads to cutting my way out of a tree or running away from the recent explosives my friend and I had no relation to…what? These are usually the moments of the avalanche crashing down a mountain, but since I live in Colorado, it’s more of a red mudslide. Though, since I live in the middle of nowhere, it would be better if the metaphor was that of someone throwing a dry dirt clod at me. No matter, I probably will have/had fun. So, do you want to go on top of your roof with strings attached to candy, “fishing” for little kids then squirt them with a squirt gun? Well, you go do that, I’ll come by with a potato gun and apples.
>> This prompt was one of those I deemed too boring to be viewed by the world, so I rewrote here. In case you are wondering, yes, I have actually stayed on top of my roof, with fishing line tied to candy, and a squirt gun full of warm water…on Halloween night. Now I really need help here, if you have any kind of journal prompt that you think would work, please email me…please? Of course, if anyone is there that is, I want you to be independent, but don’t be too independent that you can’t help the occasional weirdo on the internet. Thanks.
May 31, 2005
Girl Called Me A Skank The Other Day...
“If I Could Choose A Super Power…”
If I could choose a super power, I would choose the ability to fly. In retrospect, it’s not really super, or even a real power. It means I can just defy gravity at will. Which would still be freaking cool. I can go anywhere, anytime, without anything getting in the way…except planes, but it would be kind of hard to miss those. Also, I wouldn’t even go that high because the lack of oxygen and I wouldn’t stay too low because people going crazy. There’s one ultimate reason why I chose flight, so I can get away from people. Some person comes up to talk to me that I don’t want to then SWOOSH! I despawned! Of course I know some people who can despawn and respawn. It’s so weird, just turn your head slightly and BAM! there’s a person standing there. Being able to fly would also bring forth the advantages of pulling off many a number of pranks. T.P.ing would become that much easier, egging from above, and it would literally rain dogs and cats. I know it’s mean, but I still laugh. Then again, it would be cool if I had telekinesis because everything could fly at my will. Hmm…I think I’ll go with telekinesis. What super power would you choose?
>> Would someone be willing to develop a kind of anti-grav belt for me? Oh yeah, gots to thank my bro for helping me find this prompt. Also, yes, I didn’t update yesterday, because it was Memorial Day and I really didn’t want to. For those of you who don’t know yet, I have added a picture to my profile. That’s me giving two thumbs up…kind of. Yes, those are thumbs, and they are mine. My right thumb (to your left) can’t bend at the joint and is in all reality smaller than my left thumb. It also can’t reach any higher than shown, well, I have to force it up by some other means. I can also do this cool popping-joint-out thing…you’d have to see it to understand. For the most part I can do anything normal, except bend it. So far there has been one person who has entered the music/lyric contest……now I know there is someone else, let’s see if I can’t get them to enter. That’s all for now.
If I could choose a super power, I would choose the ability to fly. In retrospect, it’s not really super, or even a real power. It means I can just defy gravity at will. Which would still be freaking cool. I can go anywhere, anytime, without anything getting in the way…except planes, but it would be kind of hard to miss those. Also, I wouldn’t even go that high because the lack of oxygen and I wouldn’t stay too low because people going crazy. There’s one ultimate reason why I chose flight, so I can get away from people. Some person comes up to talk to me that I don’t want to then SWOOSH! I despawned! Of course I know some people who can despawn and respawn. It’s so weird, just turn your head slightly and BAM! there’s a person standing there. Being able to fly would also bring forth the advantages of pulling off many a number of pranks. T.P.ing would become that much easier, egging from above, and it would literally rain dogs and cats. I know it’s mean, but I still laugh. Then again, it would be cool if I had telekinesis because everything could fly at my will. Hmm…I think I’ll go with telekinesis. What super power would you choose?
>> Would someone be willing to develop a kind of anti-grav belt for me? Oh yeah, gots to thank my bro for helping me find this prompt. Also, yes, I didn’t update yesterday, because it was Memorial Day and I really didn’t want to. For those of you who don’t know yet, I have added a picture to my profile. That’s me giving two thumbs up…kind of. Yes, those are thumbs, and they are mine. My right thumb (to your left) can’t bend at the joint and is in all reality smaller than my left thumb. It also can’t reach any higher than shown, well, I have to force it up by some other means. I can also do this cool popping-joint-out thing…you’d have to see it to understand. For the most part I can do anything normal, except bend it. So far there has been one person who has entered the music/lyric contest……now I know there is someone else, let’s see if I can’t get them to enter. That’s all for now.
May 27, 2005
Six Inches Tall And I Still Find A Way To Rule The Universe
“If I Was Six Inches Tall For A Day…”
If I was six inches tall for a day then I never remembered it. I’ve forgotten a lot of things in the past, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered being six inches tall for a day. Then again, it might have been so horrifying that I made myself forget. In that case, I’m going to try my best to not remember what it was like to be six inches tall. Of course, if I was six inches tall, then that would mean I could also grow larger! Which in turn means I can do anything! But I can’t remember how I did that, so…I can’t. That would have been interesting if I could have done anything. I’d gone and done…uh…that’s quite the puzzler. I don’t know what I would do, maybe secure the fact that someday I will actually have a legitimate child! Why that’s so important, I will never know. Or even create super rabbits! They hop, skip, and sprinkle badgers on their Mice Crispies. Though, I think it would be just best if I were to stay normal……if “normal” is what you’ll call me. Maybe that was my original decision when I was six inches tall, ruling the universe with a iron left fist, and riding rabbits in hyperdimesional wormholes. Well, after realizing my fatal decision, I’m going to go eat a popsicle to make myself feel better.
>> My bro helped me find this prompt. Went to my cousin’s graduation today, more people in her graduating class than the total number of people in my school. It actually wasn’t that long. Oh yeah, I saw the new Star Wars on……Monday(?)……and it didn’t suck. It was better than Episodes I and II, but still not as good as Episode IV, V, and VI. I’m pretty sure that’s all for now, so have fun over the weekend and other extend periods of time.
If I was six inches tall for a day then I never remembered it. I’ve forgotten a lot of things in the past, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered being six inches tall for a day. Then again, it might have been so horrifying that I made myself forget. In that case, I’m going to try my best to not remember what it was like to be six inches tall. Of course, if I was six inches tall, then that would mean I could also grow larger! Which in turn means I can do anything! But I can’t remember how I did that, so…I can’t. That would have been interesting if I could have done anything. I’d gone and done…uh…that’s quite the puzzler. I don’t know what I would do, maybe secure the fact that someday I will actually have a legitimate child! Why that’s so important, I will never know. Or even create super rabbits! They hop, skip, and sprinkle badgers on their Mice Crispies. Though, I think it would be just best if I were to stay normal……if “normal” is what you’ll call me. Maybe that was my original decision when I was six inches tall, ruling the universe with a iron left fist, and riding rabbits in hyperdimesional wormholes. Well, after realizing my fatal decision, I’m going to go eat a popsicle to make myself feel better.
>> My bro helped me find this prompt. Went to my cousin’s graduation today, more people in her graduating class than the total number of people in my school. It actually wasn’t that long. Oh yeah, I saw the new Star Wars on……Monday(?)……and it didn’t suck. It was better than Episodes I and II, but still not as good as Episode IV, V, and VI. I’m pretty sure that’s all for now, so have fun over the weekend and other extend periods of time.
May 26, 2005
The 3 AM Oddyssey
“If I received a phone call at 3 a.m.…”
If I received a phone call at 3 a.m., I would say something along the lines of;
“Yes Mr. President! I will be on my way as soon as I can find my pants and the batmobile!” And then proceed to hang up. Of course disgruntled by this call, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and I couldn’t have the satisfaction of beating the person’s face in. I don’t have caller ID (nor probably never), so I’d try star 69, call the number and once someone answers I’d something like;
“Mr. President, I can’t find my pants! So, I just left at high speeds in the batmobile but now I can’t find your house! Now, I think I’m in Canada, but with all the lederhosen it’s hard to find my way.” Then, hang up again. Feeling a little better, I might drink some juice because no one would know. My family is a bunch of juice Nazis just so you know. Then again, if I recognize the phone number I would just go hunting at night. Since I know the person, I know where they live, and many…interesting…incidents will proceed. First, the person is obviously awake, so I’d ring the doorbell with the classic bag-o-poop on fire. While they’re dealing with this I’ll come up yelling “FIRE!!!” and shoot them with a squirt gun…full of a certain warm liquid. It’s sterile. At the present moment, they’d occupied with just being shot and don’t know how to react, I will quickly run into their house while the door is unlocked. Toilet paper will quickly be dispensed about the house, who’s going to expect someone to t.p. your house on the inside? I would also find some pants because I couldn’t find any earlier. I’d just where the pants on my head and don the name…Pantsman…or…Manpants. In conclusion, we can conclude I would just go crazy if I were to get a call at 3 a.m. Now, that may sound bad, but not really, I’d feel more sorry for the person who tried to call me at any other outrageous time.
>> Thanks to my bro for this prompt. Seriously though, I would probably do this. Now it’s a matter of who wants to test it. I have just looked through all my comments and email, Giggles has named my possible future daughter, Alicia, and someone has entered their subscription for the song names and bands. Now, it isn’t too late to enter as well, you can still tie, or somehow impress to give you the brownie points. A lot of those songs were easy, but I made it that way, so it appears next time I’ll just have to make it a whole lot harder. Remember, ANY resources which you can get a hold of. Anyway, in recent news upon my sad life, I’ve just read to a little over half of The Odyssey, not the cheap little books for little children tales or lazy bums, but the over 300 page Odyssey. It is much better than the cheap ripoffs you get in TV shows or presentations made by the TV channel. Also, if you ever want know about a hundred ways to say “had sex” read Greek mythology, I think the funniest I’ve seen so far is “accomplished in the deed of love.” Oh, good times. I may not have a journal up tomorrow, so maybe on Saturday (May 28).
If I received a phone call at 3 a.m., I would say something along the lines of;
“Yes Mr. President! I will be on my way as soon as I can find my pants and the batmobile!” And then proceed to hang up. Of course disgruntled by this call, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and I couldn’t have the satisfaction of beating the person’s face in. I don’t have caller ID (nor probably never), so I’d try star 69, call the number and once someone answers I’d something like;
“Mr. President, I can’t find my pants! So, I just left at high speeds in the batmobile but now I can’t find your house! Now, I think I’m in Canada, but with all the lederhosen it’s hard to find my way.” Then, hang up again. Feeling a little better, I might drink some juice because no one would know. My family is a bunch of juice Nazis just so you know. Then again, if I recognize the phone number I would just go hunting at night. Since I know the person, I know where they live, and many…interesting…incidents will proceed. First, the person is obviously awake, so I’d ring the doorbell with the classic bag-o-poop on fire. While they’re dealing with this I’ll come up yelling “FIRE!!!” and shoot them with a squirt gun…full of a certain warm liquid. It’s sterile. At the present moment, they’d occupied with just being shot and don’t know how to react, I will quickly run into their house while the door is unlocked. Toilet paper will quickly be dispensed about the house, who’s going to expect someone to t.p. your house on the inside? I would also find some pants because I couldn’t find any earlier. I’d just where the pants on my head and don the name…Pantsman…or…Manpants. In conclusion, we can conclude I would just go crazy if I were to get a call at 3 a.m. Now, that may sound bad, but not really, I’d feel more sorry for the person who tried to call me at any other outrageous time.
>> Thanks to my bro for this prompt. Seriously though, I would probably do this. Now it’s a matter of who wants to test it. I have just looked through all my comments and email, Giggles has named my possible future daughter, Alicia, and someone has entered their subscription for the song names and bands. Now, it isn’t too late to enter as well, you can still tie, or somehow impress to give you the brownie points. A lot of those songs were easy, but I made it that way, so it appears next time I’ll just have to make it a whole lot harder. Remember, ANY resources which you can get a hold of. Anyway, in recent news upon my sad life, I’ve just read to a little over half of The Odyssey, not the cheap little books for little children tales or lazy bums, but the over 300 page Odyssey. It is much better than the cheap ripoffs you get in TV shows or presentations made by the TV channel. Also, if you ever want know about a hundred ways to say “had sex” read Greek mythology, I think the funniest I’ve seen so far is “accomplished in the deed of love.” Oh, good times. I may not have a journal up tomorrow, so maybe on Saturday (May 28).
May 25, 2005
Lousy Punks And Their Loud Music
“Memories From Music”
I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket. Despite all my rage I’m just a rat in a cage. Killing in the name of! But in the end, it doesn’t even matter. ‘Cause I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby. If I die before I wake, at least in heaven I can skate. I’m so happy ‘cause today, I’ve found my friends, they’re in my head. I want to be the minority, I don’t need your authority, down with the moral majority. Soy un perdedor, I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me? Say it ain’t so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home. If you want to destroy my sweater, hold this thread as I walk away. Feeling like a freak on a leash. Is there anyone out there ‘cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Alright, already, we’ll float on. It just takes some time, little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride. Vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right, I swear I’m right, I swear I knew it all along. There goes my hero, watch him as he goes, there goes my hero, he’s ordinary. I, wish you were here. Lovin’, is what I got, I said remember that. I don’t want to wastes my time, become another casualty of society, I’ll never fall in line, become another victim of your conformity. I may be dumb, but I’m not a dweeb, I’m just a sucker with no self esteem. Let me go on like a blister in the sun, let me go on big hands I know you’re the one. ‘Cause I’m mister brightside. I…cry…when angels deserve to die…
>> Every sentence is a different line from a different song each from a different band. I just started typing down stuff that crossed my mind with the music I like. I put a lot of bands and songs down, so I’m pretty sure I forgot a couple good ones. Now, as much as I would like to tell what line goes to what song and band, I won’t. I’m going to see who can name the most correctly. You may use any resource that is available to you. Please name them in respective order, or it will be really hard to tell if you actually got it right. There are 24 lines there, so that means there are 24 different songs. Just number them and if you don’t know it, just skip it. If you can name the most, you get so many brownie points, there is not proper adjective to describe how many you will get. You of course can turn these brownie points in for cookies or something. Oh yes, if you post them, other people will just copy all your hard work, so email them to me (it’s sad if you can’t find my email address). I’ll give you……until June 11th to get your guesses in. Afterward, I’ll post all the songs and stuff. Have joy!
I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket. Despite all my rage I’m just a rat in a cage. Killing in the name of! But in the end, it doesn’t even matter. ‘Cause I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby. If I die before I wake, at least in heaven I can skate. I’m so happy ‘cause today, I’ve found my friends, they’re in my head. I want to be the minority, I don’t need your authority, down with the moral majority. Soy un perdedor, I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me? Say it ain’t so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home. If you want to destroy my sweater, hold this thread as I walk away. Feeling like a freak on a leash. Is there anyone out there ‘cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Alright, already, we’ll float on. It just takes some time, little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride. Vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right, I swear I’m right, I swear I knew it all along. There goes my hero, watch him as he goes, there goes my hero, he’s ordinary. I, wish you were here. Lovin’, is what I got, I said remember that. I don’t want to wastes my time, become another casualty of society, I’ll never fall in line, become another victim of your conformity. I may be dumb, but I’m not a dweeb, I’m just a sucker with no self esteem. Let me go on like a blister in the sun, let me go on big hands I know you’re the one. ‘Cause I’m mister brightside. I…cry…when angels deserve to die…
>> Every sentence is a different line from a different song each from a different band. I just started typing down stuff that crossed my mind with the music I like. I put a lot of bands and songs down, so I’m pretty sure I forgot a couple good ones. Now, as much as I would like to tell what line goes to what song and band, I won’t. I’m going to see who can name the most correctly. You may use any resource that is available to you. Please name them in respective order, or it will be really hard to tell if you actually got it right. There are 24 lines there, so that means there are 24 different songs. Just number them and if you don’t know it, just skip it. If you can name the most, you get so many brownie points, there is not proper adjective to describe how many you will get. You of course can turn these brownie points in for cookies or something. Oh yes, if you post them, other people will just copy all your hard work, so email them to me (it’s sad if you can’t find my email address). I’ll give you……until June 11th to get your guesses in. Afterward, I’ll post all the songs and stuff. Have joy!
May 24, 2005
Carpe Diem!
“With My Own Two Hands…”
With my own two hands I have done lots. If they weren’t my own two hands, I’d be a little worried along with many other people. How creepy would that be? Just walking along then suddenly without warning, I take your hands away from you, tell you I’ll be right back, and continue to conduct an orchestra of trombones. Then again, I haven’t done too much with my two hands, it’s either one or the other. I sure as heck can’t hit a baseball with a bat, so that’s out of the question. I do play a lot of video games, but even then my hands are doing something completely different simultaneously. Whoa, I just realized I can do all sorts of things without thinking about or the knowledge that I can’t actually perform that task.
“You can’t do that in reality!”
“…You’re right…”
It’s like a bug climbing a mountain, it doesn’t know it, but it’s still climbing it. Afterall, when you get to the top of the mountain, look around, find a bug, and ask how that bug got there. It’s insane…not in the membrane because then you would know you can’t do a certain task. Wait, it’s not insane because you don’t know it, it’s perfectly normal to you. You perceive it in your mind to be normal, others see through their eyes as impossible. My two hands have typed this, and come to the realization that they are now tired and would like the comfort of the mouse and pocket.
>> Guess what? I didn’t need Mocoy for this prompt! All I needed was my brother! Who from now on is going to be called…my bro! Did no one count up the journals up to the last one? You should and you’ll get the answer. I have an inactive audience (audience of one or two, still an audience), you won’t even try to name my possibly future daughter, bums. But I won’t give up! Yet!
With my own two hands I have done lots. If they weren’t my own two hands, I’d be a little worried along with many other people. How creepy would that be? Just walking along then suddenly without warning, I take your hands away from you, tell you I’ll be right back, and continue to conduct an orchestra of trombones. Then again, I haven’t done too much with my two hands, it’s either one or the other. I sure as heck can’t hit a baseball with a bat, so that’s out of the question. I do play a lot of video games, but even then my hands are doing something completely different simultaneously. Whoa, I just realized I can do all sorts of things without thinking about or the knowledge that I can’t actually perform that task.
“You can’t do that in reality!”
“…You’re right…”
It’s like a bug climbing a mountain, it doesn’t know it, but it’s still climbing it. Afterall, when you get to the top of the mountain, look around, find a bug, and ask how that bug got there. It’s insane…not in the membrane because then you would know you can’t do a certain task. Wait, it’s not insane because you don’t know it, it’s perfectly normal to you. You perceive it in your mind to be normal, others see through their eyes as impossible. My two hands have typed this, and come to the realization that they are now tired and would like the comfort of the mouse and pocket.
>> Guess what? I didn’t need Mocoy for this prompt! All I needed was my brother! Who from now on is going to be called…my bro! Did no one count up the journals up to the last one? You should and you’ll get the answer. I have an inactive audience (audience of one or two, still an audience), you won’t even try to name my possibly future daughter, bums. But I won’t give up! Yet!
May 23, 2005
Count Up The Journals, You'll Get The Answer
“If I Were A Candy”
If I were a candy, I’d be even more paranoid than I am now. As I’d always have to worry about being eaten by some obnoxiously loud, sticky 4 year old. Or just being eaten for that matter. So, I’d be sour apple flavored, as no one likes that flavor because it tastes horrible. Now, if I were just some kind of food, I’d be Lucky Charms, magically delicious. Even Campbell’s Soup, Mmm, Mmm, good. Okay, that last one was dumb. The candy I wouldn’t want to be the most is a Kit Kat, because I don’t want a people breaking a piece off of me before I get eaten whole. It’s like being eaten by a dinosaur. You feeling everything until finally you just die. So, I figure I’d be a poisonous candy. Like, filled with tobacco so people will die slowly the same way they ate me. It also not to eat so much and not be all fatty. It should be an occasional thing, not a meal. Amazing, I sound like the stereotypical parents in a bad sitcom. Strange, well, I guess it’s not so strange since I’ve grown up with only public TV. So, upon recollecting what I’ve said, I’d want to be sour apple, Kit Kat-esque, tobacco filled, and the size of your thumb. Then, I’d be called fun-size Apple Kats, they kind of taste like apples!
>> What a sweet journal prompt. Thanks again to Mocoy. Looking back at what kind of candy I’d be, I am one messed up person. Then again, the answer to the prompt certainly wasn’t 42, so I had to come up with something. Unless there’s a candy bar named “42” that I don’t know about. The world may never know. I see how it is, no one is going to even try to name my possibly future daughter, fine.
If I were a candy, I’d be even more paranoid than I am now. As I’d always have to worry about being eaten by some obnoxiously loud, sticky 4 year old. Or just being eaten for that matter. So, I’d be sour apple flavored, as no one likes that flavor because it tastes horrible. Now, if I were just some kind of food, I’d be Lucky Charms, magically delicious. Even Campbell’s Soup, Mmm, Mmm, good. Okay, that last one was dumb. The candy I wouldn’t want to be the most is a Kit Kat, because I don’t want a people breaking a piece off of me before I get eaten whole. It’s like being eaten by a dinosaur. You feeling everything until finally you just die. So, I figure I’d be a poisonous candy. Like, filled with tobacco so people will die slowly the same way they ate me. It also not to eat so much and not be all fatty. It should be an occasional thing, not a meal. Amazing, I sound like the stereotypical parents in a bad sitcom. Strange, well, I guess it’s not so strange since I’ve grown up with only public TV. So, upon recollecting what I’ve said, I’d want to be sour apple, Kit Kat-esque, tobacco filled, and the size of your thumb. Then, I’d be called fun-size Apple Kats, they kind of taste like apples!
>> What a sweet journal prompt. Thanks again to Mocoy. Looking back at what kind of candy I’d be, I am one messed up person. Then again, the answer to the prompt certainly wasn’t 42, so I had to come up with something. Unless there’s a candy bar named “42” that I don’t know about. The world may never know. I see how it is, no one is going to even try to name my possibly future daughter, fine.
May 20, 2005
Cthulhu Is The End, And The Ender Will Save Us
“A Story Character I Would Like To Meet”
A story character I would like to meet would be Cthulhu and not die. For those of you who have never heard of this mystical god, the best you can interpret his name to be pronounced is “Kuh-thu-loo,” but no one knows for sure as the writer is dead. The writer was H.P. Lovecraft and he wrote all lot of short horror stories, short, but the stories will leave you wide eyed and a baseball bat in your hand at the end. Cthulhu is basically considered to be an elder god in a deep slumber waiting to be awoken by his followers. He’s green, has wings, little tentacle thingies coming from his mouth, and is freaking huge. Also, even while he is asleep, he has affects on people with sensitive minds in their dreams. I’d like to meet him and not die because then he’d be my buddy, and he can loan me some favors. For those of you who don’t want to go out and read the short story “The Call of Cthulhu,” I’ll just say I want to meet Andrew Wiggin from the Ender series of books. Knowing most people though, they also have never read those books…*sigh*…go read it, get confused, think, and read it again, and understand everything. Hmm…I can’t really say anymore characters without anyone not knowing who they are, so I’d like to meet me. That would be interesting, okay, not really, but still…
>> Seriously, go read Ender’s Game, it’s a thinker and well written. The Ender series was written by Orson Scott Card and can be found in the Science Fiction section. H.P. Lovecraft was a good writer, especially for being in about the 1920’s, stories are disturbing but they’re really good. You may also find Lovecraft stories in the Science Fiction section, but be careful, in the books there may be stories by other people with spinoffs of Lovecraft originals (like Stephen King, which is almost an insult). Looking back at this, I realize how much of a loser I am, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A story character I would like to meet would be Cthulhu and not die. For those of you who have never heard of this mystical god, the best you can interpret his name to be pronounced is “Kuh-thu-loo,” but no one knows for sure as the writer is dead. The writer was H.P. Lovecraft and he wrote all lot of short horror stories, short, but the stories will leave you wide eyed and a baseball bat in your hand at the end. Cthulhu is basically considered to be an elder god in a deep slumber waiting to be awoken by his followers. He’s green, has wings, little tentacle thingies coming from his mouth, and is freaking huge. Also, even while he is asleep, he has affects on people with sensitive minds in their dreams. I’d like to meet him and not die because then he’d be my buddy, and he can loan me some favors. For those of you who don’t want to go out and read the short story “The Call of Cthulhu,” I’ll just say I want to meet Andrew Wiggin from the Ender series of books. Knowing most people though, they also have never read those books…*sigh*…go read it, get confused, think, and read it again, and understand everything. Hmm…I can’t really say anymore characters without anyone not knowing who they are, so I’d like to meet me. That would be interesting, okay, not really, but still…
>> Seriously, go read Ender’s Game, it’s a thinker and well written. The Ender series was written by Orson Scott Card and can be found in the Science Fiction section. H.P. Lovecraft was a good writer, especially for being in about the 1920’s, stories are disturbing but they’re really good. You may also find Lovecraft stories in the Science Fiction section, but be careful, in the books there may be stories by other people with spinoffs of Lovecraft originals (like Stephen King, which is almost an insult). Looking back at this, I realize how much of a loser I am, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
May 19, 2005
Rufus, In The Back Of The Throat, RRR
“If I Started A New Life”
I’d raise it of course. It’s my offspring afterall. And I sure wouldn’t start an old one, there’s a reason it’s old and that’s because it was boring. I’d probably name it Rufus if it will be a male, and if female, I’d name it………I don’t know, uber-duber-brownie points for the first girl to come up with a good female name for a 50/50 chance daughter! Though, I may have to leave that up to my wife, whoa……I sure hope I have a wife by then, that would be bad. “I’ve had my first child and no wife!!.” “How was it born?” “Beats me.” Although, cloning is a factor and that’s just creepy. A littler version of me and female, I’d be ugly, kind of like now. Or even worse, a new life could just spawn off of me. Just sploop, and there’s weird little creature thing just walking around and whistling. You’d think I’d notice something spawning off of me, but I’d probably just think of it as…something off of me and use it to my full advantage. “Rufus! Attack!” Aw man, that’d be so friggin’ awesome! It would get my…I don’t know, but it’d get something! A new life, a new hope, a new way to piss people off by having a creature piss on them.
>> That prompt was kind of deep, so I decided to be shallow about it. What can you do? Again, I must thank Mocoy for the prompt, as I……yeah, I’m lazy. It still would be cool to have some kind of creature to be a little…creature.
I’d raise it of course. It’s my offspring afterall. And I sure wouldn’t start an old one, there’s a reason it’s old and that’s because it was boring. I’d probably name it Rufus if it will be a male, and if female, I’d name it………I don’t know, uber-duber-brownie points for the first girl to come up with a good female name for a 50/50 chance daughter! Though, I may have to leave that up to my wife, whoa……I sure hope I have a wife by then, that would be bad. “I’ve had my first child and no wife!!.” “How was it born?” “Beats me.” Although, cloning is a factor and that’s just creepy. A littler version of me and female, I’d be ugly, kind of like now. Or even worse, a new life could just spawn off of me. Just sploop, and there’s weird little creature thing just walking around and whistling. You’d think I’d notice something spawning off of me, but I’d probably just think of it as…something off of me and use it to my full advantage. “Rufus! Attack!” Aw man, that’d be so friggin’ awesome! It would get my…I don’t know, but it’d get something! A new life, a new hope, a new way to piss people off by having a creature piss on them.
>> That prompt was kind of deep, so I decided to be shallow about it. What can you do? Again, I must thank Mocoy for the prompt, as I……yeah, I’m lazy. It still would be cool to have some kind of creature to be a little…creature.
May 18, 2005
Teenage Physics Ninja!
“If You Could Rearrange Anything, What Would You?”
I’d rearrange the laws of physics. Why? Why not? That would be the kickest-buttest thing in the out-freaking-standing world! Oh yeah, they’d only apply to me, because that kind of power in the wrong hands can lead to all sorts of destruction…hehehehehehehe. Can you imagine at the end of every law of physics with the line “this does not apply to [You cannot view the first name] Laufert.” I can, because I’m just stupid like that. Maybe my friends, people who fear me, and people who will soon fear me can imagine it, but that’s their own mentality problem. Revelation! I’d be like some kind of super ninja. An uber ninja! That works well together, German and Japanese culture, but it sounds cool. Wouldn’t you like to be an uber ninja too? Too bad, my laws of physics, but if you’re real nice maybe you’ll be included as well. This is only a dream though, to dream, to sleep, to wake up to the horror that is reality. Eff it. I’d rearrange it so reality would be that of dreams. You say this would be a problem once evil people have this power, but that can be overcome by the collective will of everyone in a room and their dreams. And giant rabbits will roam with the holy-hand-grenade toting squirrels.
>> I have to thank……let me think of a name……Giggles, for this prompt. Made me think really hard, you try it, it’s hard. Ironically enough, I’ll be surprised if a girl talks to me, but Giggles (and Mocoy as well) have remained my friends……my world has nearly imploded on itself. I must comment on the journal “Where From Here” (two journals back), because I have actually tried the tortilla with peanut butter and honey and it doesn’t suck. I have also put chocolate chips on a peanut butter-honey sandwich which also wasn’t too bad. I suggest at least trying the tortilla combination. I have updated for missing yesterday, so don’t piss and moan.
I’d rearrange the laws of physics. Why? Why not? That would be the kickest-buttest thing in the out-freaking-standing world! Oh yeah, they’d only apply to me, because that kind of power in the wrong hands can lead to all sorts of destruction…hehehehehehehe. Can you imagine at the end of every law of physics with the line “this does not apply to [You cannot view the first name] Laufert.” I can, because I’m just stupid like that. Maybe my friends, people who fear me, and people who will soon fear me can imagine it, but that’s their own mentality problem. Revelation! I’d be like some kind of super ninja. An uber ninja! That works well together, German and Japanese culture, but it sounds cool. Wouldn’t you like to be an uber ninja too? Too bad, my laws of physics, but if you’re real nice maybe you’ll be included as well. This is only a dream though, to dream, to sleep, to wake up to the horror that is reality. Eff it. I’d rearrange it so reality would be that of dreams. You say this would be a problem once evil people have this power, but that can be overcome by the collective will of everyone in a room and their dreams. And giant rabbits will roam with the holy-hand-grenade toting squirrels.
>> I have to thank……let me think of a name……Giggles, for this prompt. Made me think really hard, you try it, it’s hard. Ironically enough, I’ll be surprised if a girl talks to me, but Giggles (and Mocoy as well) have remained my friends……my world has nearly imploded on itself. I must comment on the journal “Where From Here” (two journals back), because I have actually tried the tortilla with peanut butter and honey and it doesn’t suck. I have also put chocolate chips on a peanut butter-honey sandwich which also wasn’t too bad. I suggest at least trying the tortilla combination. I have updated for missing yesterday, so don’t piss and moan.
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