Of a day of silence and a day of misery

So I wake up yesterday and discover that fall has officially arrived in my lovely little Marine Corps base that is my current place of residence without even having to look outside or do anything. How do I know this?

I'm sick.

Yesterday, September 23rd, is the Fall Equinox. On that day, the daylight began growing shorter and the nights began getting longer. My body can sense this key location in the Earth's orbit and has, for as long as I can remember, decided that the only way to let me know is by getting sick.

I've been getting sick on the first day of fall all my life. Amazing, I know. Of course, I got over it a long time ago. But this time, fall hit me like a ton of bricks. I spent all of yesterday as a mute. My throat was so jacked up that I couldn't get recognizable tones to crawl up and out of it. Just try it. Take a day off from talking. Believe it or not, (to quote Early Cuyler) it's funner than hell.

Having an excuse to be silent for a day is great. I have a reason to point at people. Restraining myself from all of my smart-ass remarks worked out for the better as well. People actually found me tolerable to be around, now that I wasn't constantly making dumb comments about the pictures in the textbook or telling them how they have no right to parade around in those shorts when their legs have the same color and texture as ricotta cheese. I didn't answer questions in class, I didn't make dumb small talk with random adult figures, and I didn't say the word "boner" right as everyone else stopped talking. "Who said that?" I sure didn't. Others did that for me. Passing notes was now perfectly acceptable. Conversations that otherwise would have certainly started fights now stayed safely locked up in my conscious; I discovered that these urges to call people out for being douchebags (even if they are, in fact, walking sacks full of douches) quietly fizzle out within about thirty seconds if they are not acted upon. Yes, life was great.

Today, life sucks. I'm typing this with a rolled up square of toilet paper in my nose. I've got nosebleeds, headaches, snot just pouring out of my face, just the works. My mommy is on her way to get me more TheraFlu and DayQuill right now, actually. I skipped out on XC practice today and just sat in a chair and stared at a blank TV screen for a few hours before I decided to actually turn it on and get some food.

Whatever, I know this wasn't a very funny one. I'm in no mood for jokes. I'm not that funny when I'm sick.

Stay well!

Cheers *grumble*,


Of fond memories and a closer look at who you regulars actually are

So I was recently lying on the floor in my room playing with a dirty sock and contemplating the various attempts by the establishment to save my young soul from the scary world lurking outside my front door. Apparently said scariness can be accessed via the internet, meaning that a portal to this world has been sitting in my living room all this time. How dreadful.

I attended an internet safety assembly at school a few years ago. I'm sure you've had to sit through one of these at some point. (Gasp, I just busted the SHIT out of that fourth wall! Edgy!) I think it was called something like "Date Rape: Pros and Cons". The lady told us about how easy it is to find people over the internet. She pulled up some Myspace page and we watched as she took things like a first and last name and turned it into a phone number, an address, a class schedule, a pantie size, and a list of fears. The girls in the audience were successfully scared out of their wits; the boys all took notes.

She also went over the dangers of chat rooms. She showed us some video where the kids all talk about how they were just in some AOL chat room and next thing they know they had been raped. That's right, they don't have to be present to rape you. They can just upload a picture of their penis or something and you've been raped right proper. Once again, all of the boys scribbled furiously in their notebooks in unison.

At the end of the presentation, she asked for questions. No one dared raise their hand. No one, that is, except for me.

"Yes, you in the back in the shirt that says 'I got lucky on Myspace'?"



Ultimately, that's all I got out of it: how to become a pedophile. I thought about it, to be honest. Maybe I have a future in stalking. I mean, let's face it. Consensual sex is waaay underrated when you take into account all the B.S. you have to put up with to get it. (Or so I'm told, I'm a virgin for just this reason.) Perhaps hateful, violent rape after weeks of trickery and lies would make my sexual frustration that much easier to manage.

Probably not. But I don't really care.

As long as we're on the topic, I think I'd better turn the camera right around at you, Mr. Blog Reader. I've just had the most interesting little chat with my blog statistics and came up with a rather disturbing bit of information. Apparently, 33% of you who got to this blog via Google search were looking up, and I quote, "how to get turtles to fuck you".

I can only imagine that this has something to do with a bastardization of my blog on turtles (which had nothing to do with scoring with them) and...well, let's face it, just about any of my other posts.

No, I shouldn't blame you and your reptile fetishes entirely. I need to find a new direction. This is a message. I need to retool, rebuild, re...fuck turtles? No wait, that's what attracted all you pervs in the first place. (Not that you shouldn't continue to read, I'll take anyone I can. Also, if you ever do learn how to get a turtle to fuck you, I want footage.) I should probably start blogging about things other than fucking and animals and fucking animals. What do you guys want to read about? Comments this blog with any topic and I will blog about it in a future post.

Suck on that, turtle.

And yes, I'm talking about my dick.

Wait, come back!



Of certain questions pertaining to the American penal system and other frankly unpleassnt observations

Today was a great day. Any day I get to be home before 6pm is a good day in my book.

Allow me to explain.

So Tuesday I had a cross country meet. Yesterday, which was Wednesday, my coach decided to send us out over this god awful trail known by the terribly inappropriate name of Montezuma's Revenge. It pretty much killed what was left of my shins, being sprinkled heavily with roots and rocks and assorted fairy tale creatures with tiny hammers. Needless to say, I felt like shit by the end of it. Coach gives us all the day off today, whoopee.

So I'm already psyched about not having to go to practice. Then I have a doctor's appointment this morning, which allowed me to miss my first class. Cool. This day is already looking good, but can we go for the trifecta? What else could I do...say, get out of gym for today? Of course I did. I rock.

As I'm sitting there enjoying the very act of sitting, I decide to do a bit of soul searching. I wanted to share some of those with you today.

For starters, do sex offenders get conjugal visits? If they do, who's visiting them? "Mommy, I miss that man who lived next door and gave me popsicles whenever I brought him my poop in a plastic bag. Can I go see him in jail?"

Hm. Weird. Thought provoking. And at the same time, oddly arousing to think about. Okay, what else have we got?

"If I had a nickel for ever time I did that..."

Who's out there giving out nickels for every time someone does something stupid? Hell, for all I know, these people that do these stupid things probably just made that guy up. Or perhaps they're too dumb to find him. I'm smart, I should be able to find him. Hang on, let's say I do. He won't have any nickels for me, because I don't do dumb stuff. So why am I trying to find him? Plus, why am I out looking for someone a dumbass told me to go find? And why did I just eat those pancakes without syrup without noticing? Why am I eating pancakes so late at night? Who decided that I couldn't get lunch food before 10am at McDonald's? Why am I out at McDonald's in the first place when it's right next to Chipotle? How does that McDonald's stay open? Am I regressing into a creative slump of only using questions over and over again? Would YOU like to play the question game? Could you tell that I'm rather good at it?

Democracy sucks. I can just look at how my gym class tries to solve problems and I can explain in great detail why they should not be allowed to vote. I've got one kid who actually thinks Obama is a muslim. He also thinks that would be bad if he were. I've got other kids who believe that Osama bin Laden is from Iraq. There are even people in my school who say that the reason they like Palin more than Biden is because Palin has had executive experience. I'm looking forward to moving to Texas. Perhaps there I will find voters who aren't retarded.

I can't wait to go donate blood for the first time tomorrow. Why? It's true that my aunt's husband is in the hospital facing a life threatening blood disease. But I didn't even think about him when I signed up. All I could think about was "hey, free soda!"

I know they're gonna ask me if I have sex with men. They have to. And if I say yes, I don't get to donate blood. What if I tell them "no, but my gym teacher watches me change in the locker room if that counts." Or that I draw pictures of dicks a lot, does that count?

I was texting this one friend of mine, telling her that I got out of gym for the day. She told me she gets out of gym every day by telling the teacher that she can't run because her boobs are too big. I thought about filling up some water balloons and trying that one myself. Instead, I decided to whip it out in front of my gym teacher and telling him I can't run because my dick is too big.

The Department of the Interior is in bed with big oil. Literally. I just about came my pants when I heard that. I bet sex with an oil giant would be insane. Say, guys, have any advice for these juicy delicious young future federal employees I have here with me? "Just remember, once you go black, you get exposed by the media for 40 gut-wrenching seconds only to realize that nobody cares because they're distracted by that one dumb-but-hot chick from Alaska that looks a lot like Tina Fey."

Did you get that last one? Oil is black? Get it? And I was talking about Palin in that last part.

You don't care. You're only reading this because I asked you to on Skype.


Just please don't vote.



Of the family Cervidae and my vision of their future (or lack thereof)

Deer are stupid.

My cross country coach had to miss practice the other day because he was hanging out at the rental car place after he was hit by one of these retards. He was driving down by the golf course when he saw a six point buck. The buck saw him and was like "this is as good a time as any" and decided to charge across the street. Bam. Completely crumples the side of the car. Knocks the thing out of alignment and everything. I don't think he said it was totaled, but I do know he's driving this rental for a week or so.

But here's the kicker: the deer survived. It stumbled around for a minute and ran back into the woods.

What the fuck?

I don't understand how we even have any deer left on the face of the earth anymore. They're just...so goddamn stupid. I've never seen a deer that seemed really sure of his surroundings at all. And yet, I still see them. I would think that they would have all died out shortly after the invention of roads.

I'll give 'em credit on that one, though. I mean, those roads are pretty goddamn irresistible. Every time I'm walking through the woods and I come across a busy highway, I have to really fight the urge to just go for it. I mean, if it's that dangerous to get across, it must be pretty friggin awesome over there. I'm gonna do it. Good luck, drivers!

Here's the thing. They kill people. Deer kill people. It happens all the time. So riddle me this: why haven't we taken care of the problem yet? Deer serve no purpose in this world, you know. I'm sure we can find some other animal to eat our gardens and be dumb and run around with no sense of purpose or direction. I just hate the fact that we let a big animal like a deer do this. Deer, pass the torch to the bunnies or something. They're just as tasty as you, and they won't destroy my car.

That's really all I care about. Those deer can continue to do whatever it is that they do so long as it's away from my car. I don't really hate deer just for the sake of hating deer, I just don't wanna die. But, they insist on carrying on with their dumbass antics, dancing around the interstate with that blank expression on their stupid faces.

Kill 'em all? Seems a bit harsh. But so does spending a week in a rental car while they dig antlers out of the side of your vehicle. Do your car a favor. Vote McCain.



Of being seventeen and the anatomy of an improv blog post

So, today's my birthday...or so I'm told.

People have been making a bigger deal about my birthday than I'd like them to. I hate getting the question "so do you feel seventeen?" No, I don't. I don't feel age. I didn't know that one did. Secondly, who are you, how do you know my birthday, and how did you know I'd be in the locker room at this time of day? Either you read my Myspace profile, or you're a creep.

I'm going to be graduating high school at seventeen. That's not that weird considering that most people at my school are young for their grade.

Alright, let's cut the bullshit. This post is going nowhere. You know that, and I know that. Nobody, not even me, cares about my birthday. How about we make this about something interesting, liiiiiiike...?

There's this fat kid at my school.

That didn't get me anywhere. Let's try some funny, totally true stories.

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today.

Haha, that fat kid. He's so outrageous. Let's add some more to this epic tale.

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today. I was gonna help him pick them up, but there were girls watching.

Okay, we got some conflict brewing here. Now I'm faced with a decision. Whatever will I do?

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today.
I was gonna help him pick them up, but there were girls watching. So I called him fat and kicked one of his books.

Nah, I don't like that. It needs to be more...shocking. Yes, shock laughs are always delicious. And we all know I could pull that off easily. Every humor writer has one secret weapon that no reader can withstand.

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today.
I was gonna help him pick them up, but there were girls watching. So I started sucking his dick and he started fisting me.

Ooh, juicy. Now we gotta make these characters a little more real, let's get some emotion in there to make them pop out, make them all 3-D and stuff. Go!

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today.
I was gonna help him pick them up, but there were girls watching. So I started sucking his dick and he started fisting me. I liked it.

Wow, I'm getting emotionally attached to this already. Now I'm just waiting for a conclusion. I'm already on the edge of mine seat, how is this all gonna end?

There's this fat kid at my school. He totally dropped his books today.
I was gonna help him pick them up, but there were girls watching. So I
started sucking his dick and he started fisting me. I liked it. Then the bell rang and I went to class.

OHHHHH SNAP SON! Who could have seen that coming? You always gotta use a twist ending like that one to keep the reader interested all the way to the end.

Alright, class dismissed. Next week, we'll discuss commas and why they're not to be trusted. Also, I'll show you that apostrophes have more of a place in modern society than one might think. Now scurry on outa here, ya little buggers. Me and Cindy have to go over some key concepts for extra credit...right after she's finished blowing me.



Of digital rebirth and a little September silliness

Wow, four posts in August? I suck.

Anyways, I'm finally back online after a dangerous and sexy tangle with a nasty lil' virus. My computer pretty much got sodomized a few days ago; he was wearing a Trojan. *buh-doom, BSHHH!*

Actually, those are the only sex related virus jokes I'm going to do. I had one planned about digital chlamydia after some really cheap porn sites, but I decided that I needed to go a bit of a different direction with my first September post.

Instead, I plan to use more jokes like this gem:

So this virus on my computer changed my system clock to say "VIRUS TIME" instead of the actual time. This sucked, because every time I saw it, I thought "oh shit, I'm late!"

Another bulls eye.

Back to the story itself: I spent a good amount of time trying to combat this virus using what little administrative power the virus left me. I spent some time on the phone on hold for Trend Micro, which oddly did nothing. I also asked around IRC channels such as ##windows, the only non-Ubutnu related IRC channel in existence. Finally, I did what any easily frustrated, ADHD computer user would do: I reset the damn thing. I could hear the virus writhing in pain as I did it; it felt good. Don't worry, I backed up a ton of shit on mine and my brother's iPods. All should be good.

But alas, despite my computer's blazing speed and virgin hard drive, I cannot be completely happy. The computer gods of Microsoft would never allow this; they need my tears to quench the thirst of the developers so that they can make another shitty OS to enforce on the public. No, for whatever reason, some files just refuse to be copied. I'm sure some computer geek can and will tell me why certain files refuse to be deleted (I don't care if it's unreadable, that's why I want it GONE!) but I really do not care. I just want my music back and I want my Reason project files back. Thank god the latter are safe.

I guess I should just learn to see the forest for the trees. This was a great opportunity for me to experience the joys of a new computer without spending money. So the moral of this story is that if your computer is running a little pokey, go download a virus. Do it. Then you will be forced to reset your computer and you will experience true digital rebirth. Amen.