(bioshock is slow.)

(drowning in animal crackers.)

r&g

GUIL: Wheels have been set in motion, and they have their own pace, to which we are . . . condemned. Each move is dictated by the previous one -that is the meaning of order. If we start being arbitrary it'll just be a shambles: at least, let us hope so. Because if we happened, just happened to discover, or even suspect, that our spontaneity was part of their order, we'd know that we were lost. (He sits.) A Chinaman of the T'ang Dynasty -and, by which definition, a philosopher -dreamed he was a butterfly, and from that moment he was never quite sure that he was not a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese philosopher. Envy him; in his two-fold security.
(A good pause. ROS leaps up and bellows at the audience.)
ROS: Fire!
(GUIL jumps)
GUIL: Where?
ROS: It's all right -I'm demonstrating the misuse of free speech.

The five boxing wizards jump quickly.

Painful zombies quickly watch a jinxed graveyard.

Six big devils from Japan quickly forgot how to waltz.

Six boys guzzled cheap raw plum vodka quite joyfully.

Many-wived Jack laughs at probes of sex quiz.

Ever notice how the lyrics

of Bandages by Hot Hot

Heat sound kind of like

panda jizz?

What are these strawberries doing on my nipples,

I need them for the fruit salad.

how did this happen

listie-tits!

1. funny lols in class
2. dinnertime everytime
3. my hero at the table
4. something to accomplish
5. when you want to gain
6. so indie it hurts me
7. if visiting memory lane
8. occasionally my weekend
9. send this to the usa plz
10. funnytimes for yourself

empty train

The other day, bf and self were waiting for the train-in-the-sky.

We were the only people on our whole platform, while the opposite platform was nearly full. Apparently, they were doing maintenance on the tracks or something so the trains were taking a long time to come into the station.

Finally, our train pulls in. Our mouths hit the floor as soon as we realize that every single cart is empty.

Racing into the cart that is directly in front of us, we impatiently wait for the familiar "bing-BING!" to signal the doors closing, and signal the start of our Empty-Train Adventure. It felt like forever, but finally we heard the awaited chimes. The doors slid shut and we exchanged looks of utter merriment.

"WHAT DO WE DO FIRST?!"

"I DON'T KNOW, THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME!!!"

"AHHH!!"

"AHHHHHHHH!"

So we spent the trip swinging around the cart like monkeys, pretending the floor was hot lava.

A rather MLIA moment. I'm pleased.

on the hunt

There's a little creative person inside of me just waiting to explode all over the world. Maybe they'll come out sometime.

I'm sure inspiration is just the key to unlock the gates. And plenty of free time and energy.

Meanwhile, check this out.

And maybe this.

azn amuses me

****** failure to write anything worth reading lately *******

**** hello stalkers *****

**** such a mystery as to who you are *****

self-explanatory

english is wheeurd

Seriously.

We say the weirdest shit ever. Our slang is completely fucked up.

Consider this: If someone who had just recently learned English were to translate what I just said, they would be under the impression that I verbalized fecal matter and preformed intercourse with casual vocabulary.

It's bloody insane (coagulation of mentally delusional fluids in the veins) that we talk like this on a daily basis and no one questions our methods. Fucking hell (Penetrating the fiery vagina of a religious fixation of eternal damnation), I can't believe the kind of dumb shit (uneducated matter projecting from the colon) our generation gets away with. It makes me want to pop a squat (burst a nearly-sitting position intended for excersize) knowing that our actions might diffuse onto our children in an exponential way. I mean, when it comes to spelling, what is with these unnecessary, silent letters? Why is it that the word "though" has one syllable, but three extra letters just loitering around? Are they selling crack (retail of fissures) to the first three letters, the ones actually pulling everyone's shit (using force to move a pile of digested organisms belonging to a mass crowd) together? Were they all originally friends, a tight-knit (close weaving of thin threads of wool) group of comrades, separated by the insecurities and consequences of drugs? Does "Tho" just bring along the other three because they feel responsible for their lack of effort in the pronunciation of the word? Does the guilt hang over them like a dark, looming cloud of shame and complicated history?

I, for one, would like to know.

But seriously.

words of wisdumb

Genders are confusing.

question:

Do, Date or Dump?

Pikachu
God
Satan

Antsy Antsy Antsy Shit.

Excuse me while I go explode myself.

I'm so old. I feel ancient.

That is all for current thoughts on life. The end.

lover*

I hate it when I actually have something maybe worthwhile to blog about and I forget it before I manage to reach a computer.

All things happen for a reason, I suppose.

So here's a picture instead.

stylish

Exhausted.

Working Out & Hot Yoga & Swing Dancing & Work

On a good note, I danced with Jesus last night!

Claire knows what I'm talking about. Jesus does swing and wears a jean shirt.

I have intentions of freezing every possible fruit and consuming it.

And I also have intentions of making my font-structure as cool as this as often as possible.

Need to avoid being messy.

Last week was an utter fail on my drunk-duck part.

MIXING SUBSTANCES IS NOT GOOD FOR ME.

It just ends up in turmoil, and embarrassing stories.

Funny stories, but embarrassing.

Take five.

(days, that is)

To recuperate. To reflect. To regurgitate liquor.

(Maybe skip the last bit)

Vom is not cool.

Lasagna & pizza is by far the worst.

THAT SMELL HAUNTS ME.

Not the pizza one, but another one.

Dizzyhead. Dizzypants.

11:11

make a wish.

goodnight.

inspiration'd

Absolutely breath-taking.

This morning, I went to send the rubbish away to the garbage bin-of-doom, not expecting to find the box of whimsical nostalgia that caused my innards to burst into a fit of artsy-orgasms. This monitor-sized box was filled with 80's photographic slides. Absolutely filled. Boxes and boxes of them... With mysterious photos which concealed their stories to me, taunted me with their miniature images of life.

My evil plot consists of taping these bad boys on my window, so when the sunlight is dripping through the glass pane of my room, the images are shown to their full potential. Hopefully, I'll remember to spend the time to take pictures of these pictures and upload them. I figure they're blogworthy. Especially the one of a naked lady on a rock. Yes. Blogworthy indeed.

fatass

Tonight I have eaten:

1. Big Mac 1
2. Double Big Mac 1
3. Bowl of Spaghetti 1

I will become obese in my future. Things are looking bright for me.

(secret link?)

confused boner

I guess I should say something about this. This photo is of guitarist Hizaki of Versailles, a japanese metal band in the visual kei scene. The photo you see above is of a man. If I had a penis, it would be doing a confused back-flip of boner-three-sixty.

wanna blog with a kelli

36 hours of wtf

"Not really tired."

"Me neither."

"All-nighter?"

"YES."

And that is how the night began.

Naked and delirious with the phone glued to my ear.

The sunrise was pretty.

Was surprised to find that she wasn't the youngest one in Tim Horton's at 7:30. A small child sat nearby eating a donut. I made a ghost out of a sandwich wrapper. The bowl of soup was an orgy of pasta, and every pasta noodle had to be eaten in two's or else they would get lonely.

The frosty air nipped my cheeks. My hand cemented itself inside the glove inside another glove.

I do like mornings.

The rest of the day was filled with ups and downs and way downs and chills.

Not being able to write/recognize my own writing and literally nodding off in class is not a productive way to spend my educational time.

Finally fell asleep after 36 hours of madness and ups and downs and wtfs and scornful comments.

Woke up half n' hour later to complete unawareness. Had to ask for location, date, and level ("What floor is this..?") but was renewed with sensibility by a hard-earned trip to the lavatory.

Way too much weird.

music to cream yourself to!

enjoy.

I JUST GOT COCKSLAPPED WITH DRAMA. EVERYWHERE. IM EXPLODING. MY HEAD IS DOING THAT. HOLY CUFK.

smile

my hopes are maintaining a normal level.

how is this happening.

cloud 9+

Relief. So much of it.

Excited. I feel it.

Not making much sense.

I'm doing it.

Probably should just

ignore me for a few

days, I'm going to

be really annoying.

family mornings

Two flies are zooming around the living room.

Mom: "It looks like their fighting...Peeeoooww.. ZOOM.. .pew pew pew...VRRGGGMM"
Captain: "PEW PEW PEW PEW ZOOMMM FRUUUGGMMMM.."
Mom: "Put the Dragonball Z theme song on, this battle is epic."

a small realization

I'm only going to allow feelings to manifest if I'm prepared to be rejected and alone.

"Excerpts From a Romance Novel I Wrote as a Child"

true love

Bill: “Tucker, you don’t like going down on a girl while she’s on her period? Come on. This is what you do: you go down there in the middle of her period, I don’t care if it looks like the elevator scene from The Shining. At some point, just come up and go, ‘Why so serious?’”

the wedding

After a long car ride full of moments of anxiety caused by my overflowing cup (the risk of something popping out was worth it), I arrive at a quaint farm-type house in the middle of nearly-nowhere. Surrounded by people I have never met before, electro-mom-atism kicks in and I cling to Mum & Co. and wonder how I got suckered into coming to this thing (oh yeah, the promise of hot cousins at my table). Gossip raped the conversations amongst the groups, reminding me that high school is not the end, but just the beginning. I stood there with my heels in the gravel and let my mind wander until the ceremony began. Now I've been to only one other wedding in my time that I can recall, and being a Catholic wedding, it was not the most pleasant thing for an eight year-old to endure. So it was a huge relief to me when, fifteen minutes later, the ceremony is over and we're off to give support to the newlyweds before sitting down to dinner. Making sure to adjust my cleavage (low: check) moments before, I finally take a chair at a table full of guests who all look around their early twenties (other than two of my table compadres who were married and awesome) who, apparently, are all related. *Prior Conversation* Captain Mum: They were all asking who you are and if they were related to you. Captain: Really, now. Captain Mum: Yeah, I told them that you weren't and they said, "Good!" *End of Prior Conversation* I doubt I'll find out who actually was involved in that conversation, but that's besides the point. Someone I barely knew was somewhat interested in me, and that's one hell of an ego-boost if you ask me. Not too far after the introductions, a classic red solo cup is placed in front of me by a mysterious (and generous) hand. I look up and it's one of my mum's friends, winking at me and returning to his seat. I ask him what it is and he tells me it's a vodka and cranberry. With this knowledge, I quickly down the drink with a satisfied smile. Not even six o'clock and I've already charmed myself into a free drink! (no) The night finally starts to look sunny. The oxymoron, however, does not. Two cups of rye and coke later and dinner is served. I thank the gods for the meal that would allow me to prevent myself from binge drinking and nom away, taking the time to give my table-mates a quick analysis. To my immediate left is an interesting fellow who strikes up conversations with me and I almost immediately like. To his left is his awesome wife who I would want to babysit my future kids. To her left is a fellow who looks strangely familiar, and to his left (and right across from me) is a blonde fellow with an infectious smile, to his left is a quiet asian fellow, to his left is an adorable asian girl and to her left is another quiet asian fellow. Thus, completes the circle of outsiders. Anyway, so I play the shy-but-interesting card by only telling grand stories when prodded, which ends up being not that often, so I wait until I have a few more drinks in me before I break the awkward barrier. I notice the blonde fellow across from me is making eye contact... ...and hours later we are outside, sitting in lawn chairs as he's trying to teach me guitar riffs (note to self: thank past-captain for being so resourceful). Considering I was telling him the benefits of being able to play WoW with only one hand (if you know what I mean) and he STILL asked for my number... I think if we meet up again, shit might go down.

To be continued, please, for the love of god.

EDIT: Shit did not go down. This is for the best.

Still, it made for a good story.

a collection of tabs

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek

http://www.penny-arcade.com/images/2004/20041231h.jpg

http://www.findwaldo.com/fankit/graphics/IntlManOfLiterature/Scenes/TheGobblingGluttons.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jjjennnnn/3759940631/in/pool-thegreatonlinephotohunt

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/index.html?curid=585215

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Beast_Wars_characters

http://rogue03.hp.infoseek.co.jp/beastwars/tigertron01.jpg

http://www.valuevillage.com/Default.aspx

That is all.

the plaid invasion

The other day as I was scoping the mall with a dear friend of mine, we suddenly became aware of the hard reality that surrounded us... Literally almost everyone in the mall was wearing plaid. There was more plaid than a Scottish Family Reunion. The pattern followed us on trendy girls in oversized plaid, on skater/punk/prep/every boy alike in the form of shorts (to be blamed on the warm weather outside), on old men unknowingly being fashionable, and in practically every single store window. Spotting evidence of the invasion soon became a game for us, and in no time at all, we were exclaiming "PLAID!" at every lumberjack pattern we saw, causing us to sound a lot like the seagulls from Finding Nemo.

Unfortunately, I was victim to hypocrisy as I was also sporting the infectious tartan.
However, my reasoning for my purchase is because it is a comfy
shirt and it was dirt cheap. So there.

love at first $*#@

movies to keep an eye out for!

• Avatar (3D meets Gollum times a billion and StarWars!)
• Taking Woodstock (Dmitri Martin!)
• Art & Copy (Doctumentary Funtimes!)
• The Headless Woman (There's too much wtf to be answered!)
• PONYO (Must finish!)
• Gentlemen Broncos (WITH JERMAINE FROM FOTC!?!)
• Jennifer's Body (Hotties EVERYWHERE!)
• Grace (Dead Bab- Ohhh wait..!)
• I Sell The Dead (Merry from LOTR! Zombies! What a tantalizing combination!)
• Alice in Wonderland (Johnny Depp in copious amounts of make-up...again!)
• Whip It (Ellen Page being quirky again!)
• How To Be A Serial Killer (Because everyone ought to know!)
• An Education (Something cute and from England!)
• The Bluetooth Virgin (A movie.. about movies... Paradoxical........!)

Everything exciting has an exclamation mark at the end!

wasabeezie

I ate a toonie-sized amount of wasabi today, wrapped in ginger.

And if you're ever in The Body Shop and they have those tester containers, put a whole bunch of different lotions on one hand and then rub it all in together. It smells great!

I love this show so much. My guilty pleasure exposed.

If you don't get it, I hope you do before college.

zombie walk day

This morning was particularly exciting for me because I knew that in a few hours I would be walking amongst my fellow zombies for no reason other than to have a shitload of good times.

After establishing my zombie attire (broken ribs, bloody knees and chin and cut-up clothing + moar bluud), I stepped outside to partake in nearly the most outrageous walk to the skytrain in my life. Covered in blood, I encountered looks of shock, confusion, and concern ("Are you okay?" "Yes!" "But you're covered in blood," "Yes!") all of which I enjoyed. It's not every day you get to walk around town looking like a zombie, making people's days everywhere you go.
Anyhow, so we (Montana and I) get on the skytrain and finally see some of our kind. After exchanging some cheerful Canadian greetings (Combination of "hey" and "eh?"), we quickly realize we're the only 4 zombies on the skytrain and the ratio should be changing according to our relative closeness to Vancouver. This comes true, and we begin to feel less like crazies. Off to a good start.

Gum is handed out so zombies can avoid the horrid stench of rotting flesh in case we meet any hot zombies. That was nice of them. I saw a snake. Nifty!
Anyhow, there was this relatively attractive-yet-creepy-as-fuck guy that asked me what my blood was made out of. I said honey and he said, "so it tastes sweet when someone kisses you or licks you, right?" which was when I stopped talking to him and just let him eat my food-colouring and honey.

So the actual zombie walk was really neat, lots of zombies going all out and zombie zombie zombie zombie zombie.

We saw Zombie Jesus, and Midget Zombie, Baby Zombies, and much much more. There was some nice creepy theme music to go along with our march. Many asian school girls were frightened out of their wits. Many tourists took pictures. Lots of moaning all around.

I enjoyed myself. That's all there is to say.

shitty magazine fun times!

I saw an ad in a magazine for these apple fries. Except the Jonas Brothers were advertising it and I don't comprehend this.

Although I do comprehend the fact that Joe Jonas is a babe (ogad don't tell anyone please it's embarrassing and I should skin myself for it)

And who in their right mind would want a birth control device that's shaped like a grappling hook? Who was the wise-ass that looked at a grappling hook whilst he was fishing on the big blue and thought, "Man, this would make a great gimmick for birth control! Women everywhere will want to shove this crafted piece of anti-pregnancy voodoo up their vagina! Brilliant! Let's name it Mirena after my lovely sea vessel!"

Fuck. Not to mention there's an entire page of fine print on the back of this ad.

The next ad is about a man who froze his sperm for 22 years.

Hugh Jackman is so fucking hot I don't care what you think.

It's half-past the hour of Squeal for Dave Matthews. quote, "I make up my best songs in the shower, I should record in there."

My thoughts exactly.

You know you've made it big when they make M&M versions of you.

Girly-gasm over.

huuummmm

it's good to be home

but it's nice to be away at the same time

Stole a bear decoration from a golf course today. Saw a real bear in the same day. Probably could've thrown the bear decoration at the bear that's how close we were. Nearly stole a golf cart.

Too tired to be entertaining tonight.

this guy's pretty funny. check it out.

dream4

Last night I dreamed I was at an improv show. Except it was in an old school because we were cheap and there was a large audience of middle school children in the middle of the room who participated as our audience. Now the group of us were suppose to entertain the kiddos, and there was an older group of improvisers that were sort of like the referees (lacking the striped shirts however), and they made the rules, told us what to do, restricted our entertainment value, etc.

Anyhow, things moved along and we were suppose to go outside for a big game. I went to do something, I can't remember what, and one of the referees told me not to. So in response, I kind of bitched out on him with my mouth full of chocolate (reason? no reason) and said something along the lines of, "you have to understand the stress I'm going under because I'm suppose to balance the authority I have over the younger ones, with the authority you have over me, it can be very confusing for me," and for some reason we were rudely interrupted (possibly my alarm clock?), and then I left that douche bag to go to the bathroom of the old school to finish my chocolate bar, which I discovered had pin bones in it to apparently allow the chocolate to "keep its shape".

Well that's dumbest.

So I angrily took the bones out of the chocolate while it began to melt in my hands and was all over my face, and went to get some of that drying tissue paper stuff in bathrooms (the word has completely escaped me right now, I'll remember later) to wipe it off, however it was on the inside of the stall next to the sink. "This is horribly inconvenient," I said.

Now while I was eating the rest of my chocolate and cleaning myself off, I noticed a mirror perched right above the stall in a way that whoever was standing outside could see if someone was inside, and vice verse. Looking up, I saw this little big-eyed, chubby ginger boy who's standing outside the stall, looking up at the mirror, watching me like a demon. At this point, I shit more bricks than I did at the beginning of Majora's Mask, and yelled at him from behind the barrier between us asking him why didn't he use the whole wall of stalls behind him, or perhaps the urinals beside the stall I was currently occupying.

"I don't want to use those," he mentioned about the urinals.

"Well I don't either, so suck it up!" I shout.

So the boy goes around and situates himself at the 1 out of 4 urinals that faces my stall, and SOMEHOW he is able to see right over the wall and continues his game of staring straight at me. So I begin to hyperventilate while sitting on a toilet with chocolate on my face, until this old man rushes in the washroom, apologizes to me, grabs the whizzing ginger child, and books it outta the place.

All I want to say is, thank you old man.

Much shorter dream than the last ones.

the story of albert "al"

It's folks like these that make me really appreciate the subtle joys of living in such a shitty town.

I wish I could see him again and tell him he's in my blog so he could read it.

So as I was sitting at the coffee loungey-area in our local elderly-infested mall reading our local amateur newspaper which consists of stories such as cats getting arrested and witty jokes your grandmother might enjoy,

On a side note, I'm strangely attracted to the lead singer of Mother Mother for reasons I can't explain. It could be the fact that he can possess such a feminine and eerie sounding voice, or perhaps his intense bone structure, or maybe his Mohawk... Whatever it is, I could fap to that mofu in a church.

Anyway, back to the story.

I'm quite sure Al caught my attention first, with his leather cowboy hat with a complimentary eagle feather hanging like a tail and his large earrings. Perhaps it was the fact that he was total alone, yet talking to himself like he's been mute for years. I guess he noticed that I was watching him with keen interest, and started directing his outer monologue towards myself. Somewhere a muck the constant stream of words, he told me "if I start to don't make sense, 'cause y'know I hear voices sometimes, then just tell me to shut up".

I like him already!

Anyhow, so he goes on to tell me how his hat-feather is magical and that he's recently been finding his spiritual side. "This feather has magic, and y'know it's some powerful stuff it guides me everywhere I go," and he then proceeds to tell me the tale of how it came to be on his hat. "So I was outside having a smoke and the feather just lands on my shoulder, just straight, like a finger, y'know, and it's pointing me to go back inside and stop smoking so I say, 'okay, you're the boss!' and I go back inside and lately I've been off smokin'."

Quality inspirational stuff here, direct to you from a feather.

He also told me how difficult it was to go to so many meetings (recovery sessions, he's laying off the drugs and the booze so he can get a job and a ladyfriend) at once, "I just can't be in a hunnerd different places at once, there's just one me.. I think."

So before I forget everything that happened, we exchanged names and he shook my hand and said "Godbless" every time he left (3 times, total).

Some memorable quotes:

"Don't drink and drugs!"

"I've been without a woman for 15 months! You try doing that, it'll do crazy stuff to a guy."

"My teeth got knocked out by a...wise old guy."

"Back when I did cocaine, which is why I hear the voices and I just have to keep talkin' to people or else my head gets filled and I go completely coo-coo!"

"Actions speak louder than words, so I'm here showing everybody that I'm getting better!"

I also saw a woman with a caved in face.

Overall, a magical day.

69 positions of Epic

"BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL"

Because nothing is sexier than He-Man and his loincloth of might and his bulging cartoon muscles.

midna doesn't have nipples.

12 hours of twilight princess.

so.

much.

geek.

overload.

I will dream of twilight monsters and giant hands trying to steal my glowing orb.

And horse back riding.

So.

much.

horseback riding.

Something epic this way comes.

rind-a-rific

So last night I was up with M & S and we was sleeping on the roofs (which was not on "fyuhh". however tea lights were involved. Satanic rituals anyone?) which consisted of excellence, even though I get mega-OCD stressed protective of the stuff in my house (something to do with being an only child and not used to sharing a lot?) and in the morning we caused chaos and confusion. Hopefully we'll outrun trouble.

old school nintendo meets punk trip? yes!

scoobysnacks

the question is:

Velma with Daphne's body
or
Daphne with Velma's body

who would you do?

week long post

Coming home I forgot what my house smelled like.
The shower felt strange, like showering in someone else's house.
I didn't recognize my hometown.
There's a suitcase of sandy clothes laying on my bed waiting for me to deal with. Plegh.
I finished my popsicle in record timing, although this is the coldest I've felt in a week. Princeton weather has no mercy.
Tan lines make me gleeful.
My whole week was mashed into one, long period of time. It felt as if I had never slept.
Don't ask me what I did which day, because the days flew by like a kid on a zipline.
I miss it.
I don't want to be here because I'd rather be back there.
365 days left to go.

ttyl

It's hard to be functioning when you've been woken up at 5:30 in the morning. Good health to you, my friend. I still can't figure out how the hell you messed up your rib in your sleep... I hope I could help whilst you were in the pain.
I love meeting new people. I get as giddy as a dog in a paleontology museum.
Must pack. Heart pumps.

jammin'

So I've been up since 6:30 am this morning. My tank is full of caffeine and teenager-lifestyle.
Let's see if I can top my last 32-hour streak.
Whee!

EDIT: Success.

spider-sicles

As time goes by, I get more and more excited for my 69th post. Something of a fiesta will occur when the time comes.

First of all, if you haven't checked this dude out, please do if you are a fan of excellent stories full of excessive amounts of alcohol, picking up copious amounts of women and overall entertainment for the reader.

Last night, while I was about to close the curtain, I noticed a spider had infultrated our tight-knit security system (a wooden bar so the sliding door can't open all the way) and had situated itself about eye-height on the curtain which was inside our apartment. Now, I'm all for lovin' spiders and all nature's creatures and shit like that, but when they invade my personal space, I'm obliged to take action. Now I realize that piece of factuality about there being a spider within 6 feet of you at all times (disregarding occasions when you're skydiving, etc.), but I also like to take every measure possible to ensure my body orifices are spider-egg-free when I slumber. Thus, I take the closest container I can see, scrap that little bastard off, and close the lid. I sit there for a few moments, slightly disturbed at my cruel ways, but also rather triumphant over such a threatening specimen, and leave it there for me to deal with in the morning if it hasn't suffocated or something.

Morning comes, and the spider has spun a half-ass web and is still alive and twitching. So I do the only thing I can do when I come across a spider in a capsule; I toss the spider, container and all, into the freezer for some experimental funtimes.

We'll see how that turns out in a few hours.

While you wait, you can watch this interesting video of a very bitter lady.

Cheers.

jingleboob

"I kind of wish I had jingly bells on my boobs.
That would make life a lot more jolly, in my opinion."

So I was contemplating life today as I walked towards C's house, and this scenario crept into my head:

Captain, sitting on the sidewalk, feet in the gutter, doing something mildly illegal, thinking wise thoughts and being barefoot. Officer Douglas parks his police vehicle next to Captain, gets out of the car and approaches the ageless hippie.
Officer Douglas, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth: "Miss I'm gonna hafta ask you to cease your illegal activities, or I'll arrest yoo."
Captain, toking/gambling/vandalizing: "Sir, before I go with you, I'm going to ask you a question. There are thousands upon thousands of people in this town, and at least hundreds of them are criminal offenders. You look like you have a family to go home to, and I'm guessing you decided to be a cop as your career in order to protect them from the vile and corruption of today's society. At this current moment, murder, theft, and other acts of violence could be happening two blocks down. So I ask you this, Officer Douglas, why are you wasting your time on a loitering hippie like myself when you can be protecting your family, and all the families here in this pitiful town by slamming down the fist of justice on those who deserve it the most?"
Officer Douglas goes silent. Time inches forward. Finally: "I see no reason to arrest you good civilian, as you were."

The end.

Also, have you ever gotten a creepy compliment from a creepy elderly individual and thought to yourself, "oh, gross"?
Well screw you.
I'd like to open your mind for a minute and realize how lucky you are to receive such an honoured assessment from such an experience character. Are you aware of the fact that old people have probably seen at least a hundred thousand legs, all different shapes and sizes, textures and colours. Do you realize that out of all the legs this old person has seen, he is so adament about yours that he verbally expresses his admiration? I mean, there are many people out there who think about the horrible, nasty, perverse, vulgar, and possibly illegal things to do to you but decide it's better if you were blissfully unaware of them. Ignorance is bliss, but it also breeds stupidity, which, I'm sure, we're all trying to avoid (what with this "education" silliness).
Anyway. When creepy old people grumble from behind you, "nice legs", it has come to my attention that you should thank them for boosting your confidence and stroking your ego, instead of the other parts of you.

dream3

Hurry Hurry Hurry

Before it doesn't make sense anymore!

So I'm chillaxing in a bus station next to the public library when a bus rolls by and a C and J drop by. C's hair is still ginger as ever, but she's cut it in a jaggedly fashion and has added some bright blond yellow tips, as well as a dark, purpley base.

"Hot damn!" I exclaim. "That looks marvelous! The base colour is the one I wanted to dye. Sort of like a dark maroony, burgandy, wtf colour."

"No it's more like a deep purple," she argues.

We delve more into the colour of her hair until I notice S across the street. She's also had an exotic hair transformation. I call her over to get a closer look.

S's hair has been dyed white, white blond, and she's added some blue and pink in there.

"Hot damn!" I exclaim. "That looks marvelous! I always knew your inner asian would take over your hair."

"I'm not asian!" she protests.

So we continue to discuss the oriental aspects of her life until J leaves and sits next to S, across the street underneath the Safeway on a bench.

I notice, and become aggravated that all my friends can't just freaking hold their horses and chill out and wait for me. I pick up my phone and call J.

From across the street, I can see she hears the jingle of her mobile, and picks it up. She looks at it, laughs with S, then puts it down. I hear a dial tone on my side.

"What the fuck!" I say loudly, and gesture for my gang to follow me as we cross to confront J and S for their peculiar bitchiness.

"Why you's so bitchy?" I ask.

"Why you's gets new friends?" they retort.

"Fuh dis," I say, and start to leave before I'm stopped by T.

"Gtfo or I'll pound you," I tell him menacingly.

He gtfo's and I continue on.

I'm underneath an up-turned boat, with A, H, L, and L, and we've hotboxed the upturned boat because it's A's dad's boat and he'd be super pissed if he found out. The inside of the boat is decorated with indented figurines and kind of looks like a bathtub. All of a sudden, we hear A's dad outside, walking around yelling. So the moment he leaves, we skedaddle out of the boat and run to C's house to continue the festivities.

C's kitchen is totally different, with cherry wood drawers and stuff and dark green granite on the counters, and there's a double sliding door to the bathroom right next to it. Apparently someone goes in there and misses harsh, but I'm a nice stoner and I go in and clean it up with a sham-wow. Then there's this brief instant where I see a picture of T sitting on the toilet giving me the thumbs up. It's contemplatively what the fuck.

Because there's a monster apparently trying to get us who's carrying an axe, we all book it outta the house. K and I follow this 20's transvestite out to the side of the house into some thorny rose bushes. We hear the monster axe-murderer from behind, so the transvestite tells us we need to run through the thorns so we can escape, but then K and I are like, "Eff that," and climb up the side of the house onto the roof.

From the roof, we jump to the garage, then jump to the neighbour's roof and see that there's a gathering going on in their garage. So, wanting to get a better look but not be involved in the gathering, K and I jump onto the garage and meet up with Nicolas Cage.

"There's some way to look through the outer layers of the garage roof," he informs us.

The garage's roof is covered in large couch cushions. Later on I wonder why we didn't just pull them off.

So Nicolas Cage works his My-Hair-Is-A-Bird Voo Doo, and creates a zipper on the cushion.

"No, that's wrong," he mumbles to himself.

So he opens the zipper, revealing another zipper behind the first zipper.

"Still wrong, we have to combine the two," he says.

So Mr.Cage and his magic morph the dual zippers together, and with that, he pulls the now-single zipper open to reveal a shit load of lobsters.

Nicolas Cage looks up at us and says, "that was unexpected."

Just to be a douche, Nicolas cage commands the lobsters with his crazy voo doo to crunch my foot. I let out a scream and he chuckles. But then Tim "The Toolman" Taylor joins us and uses his crazy voo doo magic to shoo the lobster away, and reveals to us what exactly is happening below in the garage.

As told by Tim, there are two families that are in feud who have been neighbours for sometime, but can't stand each other and they've finally decided to duke it out in this garage. The families are both ridicklessly talented in this voo doo magic that both Tim and Nicolas have been using to do crazy shit, and it's gonna be all hell breaks loose down there so the roof is probably a bad spot to view this clash of the titans.

We ponder his statement before we comply and climb down to the garage door.

With a regular, button-automated device, Tim the Toolman Taylor opens the garage door and a scene is revealed to us like a performance on stage. None of the members of the dueling families have noticed that the garage door is open, let alone the four of us watching them.

The one family, who I've decided to call the Jetsons, are mostly made up of the characters of The Jetsons. The father is George Jetson, but the mother is an octopus, the daughter is still Judy, but his boy is no longer Elroy, it's Bam-Bam from The Flintstones. They have a pet wasp who's in the middle of the fight.

The other family, who I've decided to call the Gorillas, later on reveal their secret weapon to be a huge gorilla. The father is a Nicolas Cage Clone, ("I'm the better looking one," he remarks) the mother is the Siamese combination of Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble, the daughter is E, and their son is Elroy. Their pet is presumptively the gorilla.

With the voo doo both families possess, there is a great deal of chopping, destroying, axe-throwing, ripping, bleeding, and rejuvenating. According to Tim, the families have the power to destroy and rebuild themselves as such. The real challenge is to see how creative they can get.

We watch for a while, until Nicolas Cage decides to be mischievous and interrupt the fight with some humour. He uses his voo doo to call upon the lobsters from before and sneak up on the Nicolas Cage Clone and climb up his pant leg. At this moment, everyone realizes what's about to happen and they back the truck up harsh.

"What?" Cage-Clone wonders aloud.

The lobster now settles right upon the upper thigh of the clone and opens the claw around the worst spot imaginable.

Split screen to blood-chilling cry.

Upon this cry, the huge gorilla comes thundering into the garage, and half of the building is destroyed in its wake. Then a fighter jet comes blazing down and starts shooting everything, and the moon suddenly gets about 20 times closer to the earth than normal, and shit hits the fan.

"HOLD IT!"

Bam-Bam and E step out from the tussle and face everyone. The fight stops and all eyes are on the pair.

"Fellowship," begins Bam-Bam, " we cannot fight like this anymore. Peace will never reach these two households if this battle continues. We must find a way to solve our issue, once and for all."

The Jetsons all nod in agreement.

"Samesies," says E.

The Gorillas join in the nods of agreement.

Then someone shouts, "MAKE-OUT SESH!", and everyone starts whooping and cheering for E and Bam-Bam. They both turn beet red and Bam-Bam looks up at E.

Me and K both start laughing at our fellow improver's dismay.

"Urghgh," E mumbles, "I'm not a pedophile!"

"I'm almost 50 years old," Bam-Bam tells her, "I think that evens things out."

So they make out and everyone claps and whistles and shit.

"Let's go back to our place for pot roast!" George Jetson exclaims.

We all agree and head into the house for some delish grub.

The end.

no fml is bigger

than last night.

and this morning.

If I died right now

it wouldn't be so bad.