“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.
Sep 16, 2005
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.
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