Saturday, December 31, 2011

If Certain Things Disappeared

So it's been foreverish and I was like "POST TIME LET'S GO!!!!" but then instead of making a post I just caught myself up on HAWP videos and called it a day. But since that wasn't of absolute complete importance, I kinda blew this off. However, now I'm supposed to be doing the homework that I missed from having the worst stomach virus ever for two days. So of course inspiration strike at the worst time ever means a post during school time.

You heard right, school time. I've been in school for the past two weeks and I'm not entirely sure that my school even knows why. But it's no biggie, because next year we don't start until AFTER Labor Day, which is awesome because that hasn't happened since 7th grade. OH YEAH BIG BOSS SENIOR...next year, but you get my point. Anyways, like I was saying, post time.

So, there's been a lot of rain around here. Like Noah's Ark floods rain. Yeah. And guess who's had to walk to and from school in it? This girl, right here. And there isn't very many things I hate about rain. I think rain is awesome. Except in the summer. Because then it's not cool, refreshing, darkest nights rain, it's evil, muggy, humid, bug infested, smog colored downpours. And then there's puddles.

Remember when you were a kid and you were like "PUDDLES!!!!!!!!!!!!" and now you're like, "puddles? :( " Now maybe you still do like puddles and that's totally okay. I kinda like puddles too. Kind of. Because in the fore described "summer rain" in towns like mine, there aren't just puddles, there's miniature kiddie pools.



And there's always that ONE PUDDLE that you underestimate. Because you gauge it's depth and you're like "hmm, seems pretty shallow" so you keep walking and all of a sudden, you're knee deep in muddied water and gnat babies. GNAT BABIES. And it sucks.

This is why I'm super duper excited for winter, because Winter is the best season ever. There's snow, presents, vacation and food. What more could you want?


If certain things in the world were gone, I'm pretty sure about half of the world would just up and die. Because as a society built off of vanity and greed, with lots of things gone we'd technically all starve. I've created a list of said things, that I find quite interesting:

  • colored contacts
  • makeup
  • cake
  • push up bras
  • crayons
  • sunshine
  • candy
  • soap
  • prescription eyeglasses
  • hole punchers
  • computer viruses (virusi?)
  • grass
No, I think I'm gonna end it with grass. ALTHOUGH, according to allergy rates and percentages, that could actually do a lot of the world some good. But I digress. As the first few hours of 2012 (see Year of Our Death) pass through, I wonder what life would be like without these things for some people and for the world.

Firstly, I think there would be a lot less crime. BECAUSE, it's been proven that at least 35% of every state is populated with people of varying degrees of eye sight problems. That being said, even if crime rate didn't go down, no one would be able to tell because THEY'RE ALL BLIND. But that's totally okay, because certain things look better through blurred vision, like ugly people...and cats. Because through blurred vision cats kind of look like dogs and that's twenty billion times better than actually looking like cats. I think if people thought that stray cats were actually stray dogs, there'd be a much smaller problem of stray cats running amuck in the world. I don't care if that's actually an article and a synonym for slimy mud. It's one word in my mind.



You know what's interesting? British people. Now don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against Europe, HOWEVER, I have everything against accents. Yes, I'm a British accent Nazi and I could care less what you think of that.

I'm really afraid that one day I'm going to meet some poor German guy. And I mean like, just got off the boat, German guy. And then he's going to have the poor fate of talking to me and I'm going to say Nazi WAY too much and then he's going to be like, "Is she Jewish? She doesn't look Jewish...but why else would she be calling me a Nazi? I'm not even from Germany!" But because I can't read minds and this person is likely to be polite he's probably not going to say anything. But then for the rest of his life he's going to have the false connotation of pretending to be a secret not-Nazi, because let's face it, if it's okay to be a Nazi again then the KKK can finally come out of hiding from the small cavernous plains of Utah.

Just kidding Utah, I've got nothing against you. I've actually heard that it's quite nice there, with the ridiculous amounts of snow that you get, you're like my dream state...you know, besides all that Mormonism crap, because that's just a little too "Christ is God" for me.

I'm convinced that I'm secretly a terrible person. Except everyone knows and it's not really a secret except to me because everyone's really too polite to tell me because sometimes I'm actually a really good person and I'm like "I love donating blood even though I have a tendency towards low iron counts and fainting as it is! But seriously, just stick that needle in my arm and let the spinning world begin!"

I'm like really afraid that's actually going to happen some day. Like I have this thing where I know that being sick is absolutely the worst thing in the world and giving blood is actually a really big problem because the Red Cross is like selling our blood on the black market, and by the black market, I mean to crazed Twilight fans. Because for some reason the Red Cross is like, "Hey, I know that girl's birthday isn't until next month and she's constantly calling to donate blood with signed permission slips and all, but let's just screw her over completely and make the donation day for a month before she's old enough AND to top it all off, let's make iron requirements like two times larger than they really need to be.

If you haven't noticed already, I tend to have an affinity to make things sound a lot more ridiculous than they really are, but this is how things play out in my mind. And that's sometimes a problem, because I'm kind of that person that exaggerates everything. Like I'll call my friends and be like, "Dude, I just ate like sixteen pies and eight Dr Pepper's!" and they'll be like, "Man that's awesome! I wish I could eat sixteen pies!" But in reality I really ate like four pieces of pie and like eight glasses of Powerade because my electrolytes were really low and I needed calories to ensure that I kept off that stomach ulcer.

But that doesn't sound as great. Honestly it sounds really depressing. Which is why I don't really say what's actually happening. Truth be told, some stories are actually exactly what happened, but when exactly what happened just doesn't cut it, there's like this other person that takes over my body and goes, "Hey, that story you're thinking about telling....it's eehh" and you're like, "Well I certainly don't wanna tell "eehh" stories, what should I do?" and the person's like, "WELL, you should take the original number and multiply it by six, but don't exaggerate the second part, because then it won't sound believable." But then in my mind I'm just like, "Hey, you know what would make that even better? Exaggerating EVERYTHING by twenty and then dividing by four and adding three. Because odd numbers always throw everyone off."

The end result is usually something completely unbelievable, but the way that I say it makes you think that I just might actually be slightly legally crazy. And so to humor me and to not put yourself in physical danger, everyone just goes, "Of course I believe you! That was AWESOME."

This can't be a good start for 2012.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Untitled

So I take lots of surveys on the internets. Because I'm poor and  a full time student and therefore have no time for a real job, nor am I ''old enough". I KNOW. So like I said, I take surveys. Or, well, I sign up to take surveys, but then I just don't feel like sifting through my email and then it all just builds up and suddenly one day I'm like "hey, maybe I'll check my email because something else I signed up for needs a confirmation" so I go into my email only to be confronted with: You have 540 new emails. 0.0

Yeah, it was weird. So, being the proactive person I am, I promptly opened the confirmation email and confirmed and then quickly signed back out to once again let the email build up. You know you do it too.

And here's the thing, I probably wouldn't have so many emails if I weren't so gullible to "free" gifts for your birthday. And in September, I was like, "hey, my birthday's in a few months, maybe if I just sign up now, then I'll start getting free things sooner!"

This was obviously flawed logic. Also, I have a tendency to forget that I've signed up with companies for free gifts and since they're assholes and don't filter who's already in the club and who's not, I end up subscribing and getting three to six of the same emails EVERYDAY. WHY?!?!!??

Another thing? I'm ridiculously curious. NOT to be confused with nosy. Because I could care less about what's going on with random strangers. HOWEVER, when I'm confronted with an email that says, "Open for Mystery Coupon worth up to $50" my intelligence in gone. Because everyone knows that the likelihood of getting said described coupon is the same exact likelihood of winning the lottery. Nevertheless I always feel compelled to open it anyways, only to be promptly disappointed by my "$5 off a purchase of $75". WHAT KIND OF GHETTO COUPON IS THAT?!?! The reason I would ever want a coupon subscription would be to spend ridiculous amounts of money on stuff I don't need only to have the price cut down by 75%! Not to spend all of my money only to get 2% back. JERKS!

Has that ever happened to you? Probably not. I think only outrageous things that are really not all that outrageous happen to mostly just me. YOUR FACE IS OUTRAGEOUSly attractive.

So anyways, like I was saying, surveys. See, the days that I sign up for surveys are usually weeks where I've been really good about checking my email every day and cleaning out a lot of crap I don't need. But after I sign up, I just slowly start slacking. Like REALLY slacking. As in I will lay down on the couch and watch 6+ hours of continuous TV reruns of shows I've failed to keep up on only to realize I really have shitload of stuff to actually get accomplished and then continue to watch TV until someone drags me off the couch. I'm so serious.

So when I sign up for the surveys, I'll be like, "Yeah, I'm really poor. SEND ME THEM EVERYDAY!" But then that slacking thing happens and when I sift through my emails it's all like "Urgent survey opinion needed. TODAY ONLY!" And then I'm like, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" because the reward was like 2,000 points which is the equivalent of $20 on some sites and that's cash money that I desperately need. So then I end up throwing away, not only junk mail, but pretty much money, right into the trash tab.

And this is why I'll be forever poor and eating Ramen noodles for the majority, if not all, of my college life.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

I want to be a Mafia Princess

YES. You know you're jelly. JELLY MELLY!

Sooooo guess what tomorrow is?!!?! DISECTION DAYYYY!! Now normally I would be spitting moral qualms all over the place, but I really don't care. I mean I care, but not enough to sacrifice 80% of my total Anatomy grade for. Sorry morals, I'll see you in a few weeks when the kitties go in their kitty coffins. Then we will once again belong together forever.

My kitty's name is going to be Banjo. BECAUSE HE'S CUTER THAN YOU. Just kidding, you're adorable ;D (<-------- super awkward pedophile creepy wink!) Just in case you weren't quite sure how it was intended.




AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's November!!!!!!!! You know what that means ONE MONTH TIL MAH BIRTHDAY!!! Isn't that exciting?

Ahh birthdays, the one time of the year when you can act like a total douche and no one can say anything back. Also, the time to break out THE BIRTHDAY BALLOONS.

Now I don't know about you guys, but birthdays at my high school are a really big thing. Firstly because, no matter who you are, who you know or better yet, who you don't know, by the end of the day you WILL know the birthday girl. And I only say girl because I've yet to see a boy complete the phenomena. What is this "birthday girl" fantasy of which I speak? Well listen close young ones, you're about to find out.

The tale of Birthday Girl began much before my time. It was a legend, told to me by my big brother and my aunts and uncles before him. IT WAS MAGICAL. You would walk into school and everyone would stare at you with wonder and amazement. YOU were the Birthday Girl and it was YOUR time to shine.

Or so I thought.

The magic that was the Birthday Girl story turned out to be a bunch of squashed potatoes without a blender. So, it was pretty much crap.

Alas, the epic of Birthday Girl was nothing but a sham. It's not that Birthday Girl doesn't exist, it's that she doesn't deserve any damn capital letters and magical stories. She more likely deserves a punch in the face from the entire school. Now not everything about birthday girl is fake, just almost everything. Like her name. It's not Birthday Girl with magical sparkles and unicorns and glitter, NO her name is birthday balloon girl (BBG) and she is the high school equivalent of a terrorist. Oh yes, I did. 

Firstly, when you walk into school, people WILL stare at you. But not in amazement and wonder, more in remorse and hatred. The thought, "GODDAMNIT NOT ANOTHER ONE!" will indeed be running through everybody's mind. Because the horror of birthday girl has just been confirmed.

Now, what a tale would this be without some awesome pictures? Now why didn't I use the perfect circles to make birthday balloon girl's head?


BECAUSE SHE'S A GODDAMNED TERRORIST! God, weren't you listening?!?!

That's one attractive girl though, I must say. See BBG? This is how you make me feel. You make me feel like I want to go buy a kitten and have the following dialogue with someone.

"Hey, I bought you a kitten."
"YAAAAAAYYY!!"
"...AND THEN I KILLED IT."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Thanks a lot BBG, killing kitties one balloon at a damned time.

You wanna know what else BBG? You make everyone feel this way. NOT JUST ME. Because you're all struttin' in your obnoxious stillettos going, "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AND I'LL-" and then the masses scream out, "NO ONE FUCKING CARES!" but then you're "gurlfrannns" (whatever the fuck that means. what are you, grammar deaf?!) start going, "AWW NO THEY DIDNNNNNNN'T, GURRRLL IMMA EFF YOU UP" and you would again shout your original statement but by this time you've seething reached your destination and you thank god for doors.

And would you like to know why I honestly hate birthday balloon girl? It's because of one tiny little thing. Just one teensy weensy miniscule problem.

EVERY TIME I WALK DOWN THE STEPS EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR GODDAMNED BALLOONS REPEATEDLY SMACKS ME IN THE FACE OVER AND OVER!

Now once upon a time, I was birthday balloon girl. Except, I wasn't the girl in the picture. I had a lone balloon that sent the message that in was my birthday and I got nice birthday wishes from everyone and even people I didn't know. Did I smack everyone in the face with my balloons. No. BECAUSE I'M NOT A TERRORIST LIKE YOU.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Harvest Moon

Anyone remember that game? You know, the one where you waste days upon end doing absolutely nothing? Yeah, that's how I spent one of my summers. Or at least one of my June's.

Anyways, so do you ever have those days when you make terrible decisions? Like "I should be doing my homework, but I think I'm gonna write a blog post." Or, "I really should get some exercise, but I'm gonna catch up on Supernatural." And my personal favorite, "I'm really hungry and I haven't eaten in five hours, but I think I'm gonna watch six more YouTube videos before I even consider getting up."

Yeah...that pretty much describes how my year is going. I should be doing this...but I'm going to do this instead. I haven't been very productive. But you already knew that by my severe lack of posts. NBD, I'll make up for it.

But Harvest Moon, not actually the video game, but the song. You know, the really awesome Blue Oyster Cult song? "A change in the weather, I love this time of year." Yeah, that one.

So I don't know about you guys, but it snowed yesterday. You know, in October. A DREAM COME TRUE. I was almost practically living in the Nightmare Before Christmas except this time it was like the ending of that movie, so it was the Winter Wonderland before Halloween. I'd buy it.

So Junior year...not so much sure what to say. It's adequate. I mean, it's sure as hell better than last year, but I'm pretty sure almost anything is better than last year.

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!!! So Halloween is my favorite holiday of all time. I think it's just the vibe it gives off, you know? The smell of burning wood and change of leaves in the air. The crisp, cool weather that just requires a nice hoodie. The widely accepted time for pie all the time. And you know, candy isn't bad either. But like I said, the vibe. It's all, "I'm bigger than you!" and honestly, that's the kind of holiday that should really only come one time of year, because if you heard that all year, Halloween would be a total douche. Like guys who wear Axe.

Anyways, so I've decided, when all other careers fail for me, I'm just going to make Halloween costumes for babies. because honestly, who doesn't think this is the cutest thing in the whole world? COMMUNISTS that's who! Just kidding, I'm sure even Communists believe in adorable baby costumes.

So this is just a quick update, informing any of you who care that I'm not dead, definitely still here. Just crazy busy. It's not even funny. Anyways, I hope you guys all have a safe and great Halloween and I'll talk to you soon.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Evolution

So I've been rather in an inspiration rut, therefore I will bestow on you previous work. This was a project for Biology. Enjoy.

Evolution
Darwin?
This guy = super important. He discovered many important things, such as evolution. And he was on a boat. They named the ship H.M.S. Beagle after his dearly departed dog. In 1831, he set sail and unlike Christopher Columbus he wasn't from awesome Spain, or coming from said at least. No he was from boring old American hating England, so I will start using the word "chap." This chap made so many observations on his English-y trip that he had to start cutting trees down and making his own paper. And finally on a slab of tree trunk of something that was probably endangered Darwin became God and wrote the Infinite Commandments of EVOLUTION. Except minus Moses and the burning bush and adding some burning trees and scared sailors.

Why Won't You Answer My Question?
So our dear chap continued on his excavation as his poor Mum worried sick at home because children there were no cellular telephones back in the time of the ancient. Anywho Darwin wrote on his slabs of trunk the observation of diversity. In Australia there were no rabbits although the conditions seemed positively ideal for them. Also why weren't any of those magnificent kangaroos in England? Maybe they like America. In other words animals in one place weren't in another even though the environments were highly similar. Now instead of answering that question we're going to talk about fossils and the ones that Darwin found. Fossils are preserved remains of ancient organisms.

The Galápagos
So this is where turtles came from. Before this island, turtles did not exist, nor did they evolve. But then our dear chap came along and set the turtles free into the world where seagulls proceeded to eat their babies. Nice job Darwin. These islands were somewhere near South America, which is also better than England. Darwin did like them either. Anyways the islands were like magic, none of them were the same. Apparently they were in a feud with each other but that children is a tale for another day. The smallest islands were hot and dry and disgusting. The higher and larger islands were full of rainforesty goodness and awesome and they had TURTLES.

Turtles!
So on the magnificent Galápagos Islands we found turtles. They were fascinating creatures. With their shells and stubby legs and those heads that can totally disappear, dear Queen, these turtles were magicians! And as soon as Darwin discovered turtles they began to go through evolution! Just like an upgrade of Pokemon, except ten times not as cool because turtles are all chill and like hey man, I just wanna eat some lettuce and walk really slow and maybe I'll hit the pool but I'm going to take my time getting there cause you know, I'm a TURTLE.
And these magical turtles were called TORTOISES! They're so cool they even got their own names! Man I wish I were a tortoise, don't you? Darwin didn't cause he's a square.

BOOM. We totally got a 100%. 

Friday, September 2, 2011

YOUR MOM

I'm mature, I know. So today I was supposed to go food shopping at Acme for my mom because she's been working lots of double shifts this week and we have no food in our house. WE'RE OUT OF BREAD. I was obviously going to die if something didn't happen soon. But instead of buying anything that we really needed or that would last us the week, I just bought the supplies I would need to made s'mores. BECAUSE S'MORES ARE FOR CHAMPIONS! You obviously wouldn't know.

So I've been thinking recently about how the average girl acts. This is because I have just been thrown back into the lovely world of Junior Year high school. Woo. Anyways, being surrounded by selfish, demanding, belittling, capricious girls has made me wonder what I've actually prepared my brother for when it comes to girls. When I hear my guy friends talk about Disney Channel (SATAN'S CHANNEL) and whatnot, my response is usually, "What the fuck do you mean, you know all the words to High School Musical 2? What the fuck is that anyways?!?!" And they usually reply, "My sister watches it!" Which does not make any sense whatsoever, but let's continue.

There are very few things that I have in common with a typical teenage girl. However, there are definitely things I HAVE prepared him for. Such as:

ridiculously long showers
lots of time getting ready
having a strong emotional attachment to animals
fighting for animal rights
becoming a vegetarian for three weeks
tripping...over EVERYTHING
sucking at sports
having no upper body strength
losing thumb wars
being weird
liking shiny things
putting stickers on face
trying a new makeup look and looking like a deranged clown
smelling like fruit
loving fruit
loving yoga
loving jewelery
spilling things
dropping things
obsessing over being ecofriendly
talking ridiculously fast
collecting stuffed animals unintentionally
constantly painting nails
shopping taking longer than an hour
buying way too many clothes/shoes
dancing embarrassingly
belting out favorite songs
sleepovers
poetry
coloring

And that's about it. You can read my other post about important things that I haven't really set a standard for. But this is what I have set the standard for. Hey, it's longer than I thought it'd be.






FORKS

So I'm having a super ridiculous hyper day, which is strange because I woke up today in like a really terrible mood, but now I'm just super jumpy and talkative and hyper and not able to sleep which is bad because it's like 1 in the morning. Whatever. So recently, I've gone on a strike against emptying the dishwasher at my house, which seems totally irrational, but you don't understand the fork problem.

See about two months ago we were having this crisis at our house where there was a shortage of forks. Now I know you're imagining us missing like two or three forks. NO we just woke up one morning and we were missing like ten fucking forks. TEN. And this was a problem, because even though we're a family of just four, considering that we all eat meals aside from breakfast at different times AND lots of snacks in between, we use forks constantly. That being said, after accusing everyone in the family and a few friends and neighbors (I'm so serious) we just settled on the concept that there was someone, somewhere that decided to become a Fork Nazi. And that person zeroed in on our little family and was like, "You know what? They use WAY too many forks. I think they need to learn a lesson." AND THEN HE STOLE ALL OUR FUCKING FORKS.

So then there was a problem. Because say that you REALLY wanted some spaghetti. So you're starving, because since you REALLY wanted the spaghetti, you waited the fifteen minutes that it took to actually make it and heat up sauce and get everything ready. So you put your food on a plate/bowl and go to get utensils, only to be confronted by the fact that there are absolutely NO forks in the utensil drawer and all of the forks are consumed by the experimental mystery that your mom tried to make last night that gave everyone terrible stomach pains and dry heaves. If the memory of the horrible dinner from the previous night didn't scare away your appetite, the thought of reaching through the five foot pool of mystery juice and other dirty dishes definitely did.

Don't get me wrong, this doesn't change the fact that you haven't eaten for the past ten hours and just woke up with a terrible need for pasta covered in tomato sauce and cooked until all nutritional value has been erased. You WILL be starving. And you will most likely want the noodles all that much more badly. Now had this been an average case of noodles, like macaroni and cheese, you could've easily picked up a spoon out of the bountiful pile residing in that utensil drawer. BUT NO, there is no replacement for a fork when it comes to spaghetti. And knowing your luck like I know mine, you're out of plastic forks too. So you end up looking like a cannibal and eating the spaghetti with your hands.

But everything changed when one day you came home to an even worse disaster. Your mother had finally given up on finding the forks that you owned before the coming of the Fork Nazi, so she stopped at the local kitchen store and picked up forks. HALLELUJAH! Only there's just one problem. Not only is your fork holder full, it's OVERFLOWING. Forks are falling into the knife and spoon holders. Forks are flying out when you open the drawer. FORKS ARE EVERYWHERE. This was a blessing for the first day. For once in what seemed like forever, our supply of forks seemed endless. There was never an empty fork holder. But then the next evening came with the dreaded, painfully mechanic job of emptying the dishwasher.

As you set to do this mundane task, you reach an impasse. The fork holder has become full, but you still have ten more forks to fit in. No matter how much you try, there is no physically possible way to fit all the forks into the utensil drawer without chaos. This makes you angry. So after twenty minutes of trying to carefully fit the forks into the proper spot, you give up and end up throwing and I mean THROWING the remaining forks into the drawer and slamming it shut.

Not only does this happen EVERY time that you empty the dishwasher, but it gets worse. Because sometimes you reach down into the utensil bin of the dishwasher to grab some spoons and instead get stabbed by a million sharp prongs from the ridiculous amount of forks that you now own. Because somebody forgot to put the pointy side DOWN. Tonight was the last straw. This is the last time that I am going to empty the dishwasher until we get rid of some forks. I don't care if I have to become that creepy kid in the hallways of my high school with the trench coat that has random, unnecessary objects that nobody really wants to buy.

Now the next topic is something that is very important to me. I even looked up real pictures instead of illustrating, because this point needs to be made very clear. It's called Walker's Distance. Now some of you who walk places often (to and from school, around the blocks, to the park, etc.) most definitely know what this is and how very often it gets violated to the point of no return. For those of you that are lucky enough to have a car or are just super busy, Walker's Distance is the one thing that will get you on somebody's Shit List. Especially if you encroach on this bubble frequently.

Walker's Distance is the space that should be left between people walking. This means the distance between you and the person in front of you. Now I don't know about you, but I like space. I am NOT a touchy feel-y kind of person, I have a very big personal bubble and I will never forgive you if you intentionally invade it. However, some people just do not understand or even believe in Walker's Distance. Well believe it, because it's real and you're most likely pissing off everyone around you. Seriously, take five steps back and watch as smiles quickly form on people's faces. Trust me.

Walker's Distance is a science. It is not strictly science, but there is a set space that should ALWAYS be between you and the person in front of you. There should be AT LEAST one block between you and the person in front of you. If you can smell the person in front of you's perfume, you're WAY too close. And this has happened to me God knows too many times. Because, let's face it, when you're walking to school or work or a friend's house, you most likely have music playing and headphones on. Unless you think that your music is universally loved and should be heard by all. Then you're that guy/girl. If you have no idea who that guy or that girl is, chances are, it's most likely you.

Because of my great love of music and an intense need to just block out everything and stay inside my own head, I have ear buds. I know, they're bad for you. Cry me a river when I'm deaf and I won't have to listen to it. My ear buds are noise blocking, meaning that even without music playing, they work like regular ear plugs. So add music to that and I can guarantee I will not hear you walking behind me. That being said, this means that, because I have serious issues with trusting that someone's not going to kidnap/injure/etc, me, I turn around frequently. Usually it's to check to make sure cars aren't coming when I cross the street, but I do turn around quite often. This is how I came to know Walker's Distance.

Now think, when you walked home (you've had to have at least once) and you turned around to make sure no cars were coming, you definitely noticed if someone was walking behind you and what their proximity was. Most people, myself included, stick to the "one block" rule and appreciate when others follow suit. But every so often and I mean OFTEN, you get this person that thinks that they want to sneak past you or they're just seriously trolling. And if you don't understand the severity through which people can scare the living daylights out of you, I even found a real picture to demonstrate. So imagine that you're jamming out to your favorite song, be it what it may, and you're almost home, so you turn around to check for cars and


BOOM! What if that girl were to turn around?!?! That's exactly how it plays out when Walker's Distance is totally unbelieved in. So while you're trying to calm your heart palpitations, the other person just strolls around you, seeing no harm in their douche-y ways.

Worried that you may be walking too close? Think about the distance you like to see when you know someone is walking behind you. Are you that far away from the other person? If not, slow down if you can, but if you can't, either cross the street and walk on the other side or just stay where you are. As long as you're not breathing down the neck of the other person, you're okay. You could be better, but you work with what you've got.

Now, sometimes Walker's Distance is trampled on for what seems like "good" reasons. For instance, that group or pair of girls (sorry ladies, but it's usually you...us...whatever) that are just moseying along like no one else needs that stretch of sidewalk. They are usually texting, on the phone, both or talking obnoxiously loud with their fellow man...woman...thing. Yeah. So you get an idea in your head like "Hey, you know what would teach them a lesson? If I just walked right past them." YES, this IS a good idea, but not the way that you want to do it. Because the way you probably want to do it is by increasing your speed and closing in on the distance to get by.

This sounds like an excellent plan. But this is what always happens. You're almost past them, practically walking on top of them, when one of them turns around and says some swear by the ways of, "oh shit! fuck!" or my personal favorite, "Jesus!" What does J.C. stand for? JESUS CHRIST lol jk it's Julius Caesar.

Anyways, if you're smart, you immediately find an excuse to cross the street like you live there, which you probably don't, but this is what happens when your ideas backfire. Now I understand, really I do, there are some people so slow that I'd like to get a speedometer just to prove to them how horribly slow they're going. But let's face it, there's really nothing you can do, but suck it up. Now you can do several things to keep a Walker's Distance from these descendants of dying tortoises. One, the first thing you realize is that your normal walking pace seems to be marathon running pace compared to what has to be the dying limbs of the teenagers in front of you. If there's no one behind you, as much as it may kill you (I really hate it), but slow down. Because sometimes you get lucky and they turn down the next street and you can run home if you want after that.

Option number 2 is, honestly, just cross the street, get a good block between you and the slow pokes that Snorlax could beat and just cross back to your original side. Sure, it's more work for you, but in the end, you get home SOOOOO much faster it's totally worth it.

Okay, so I feel much better. Alrighty, well I hope this helped you guys and if not it helped me so SUCKS FOR YOU. Just kidding, I really hope this was informative. STOP ENCROACHING ON MY SPACE*.




*not to be confused with MySpace.



THIS IS WHAT AWAITS ME EVERY EVENING

Sunday, August 21, 2011

YOUR FACE!

Is ugly. Just kidding, I don't know you. You're probably really super attractive. Have fun with that.

So I meant to write some super awesome actually important somewhat kind of post earlier today, but it just didn't have the heart and soul that I was looking for. And by heart and soul I mean crazy ridiculous use of words that are not words and SUPER DRAMATIC CAPITALIZATION. boom.

Tomorrow I'M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE TO NARNIA!! And I will get awesome piggy back rides from Aslan and THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT. except be jealous. SUPER JEALOUS.

So, I'm using that word a lot. Oh well. Anyways, guess who's super amazing hotty hotness sexy guy? M. SHADOWS.

That's right, you've walked right into...wait for it.........................

THE TOP HOT/SUPER GORGEOUS AMAZINGLY SEXY VOICED METAL SINGERS

YES.

So, I'd make this a countdown, but I don't have an exact number, so let's just wing it.

RANDOM NUMBA TIME!!!!!!!!!



2. Corey Taylor


SO. MUCH. HOTNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God, where do I begin. Not only is this guy SUPER ATTRACTIVE, his voice is one of the greatest things I've ever had the pleasure of listening to. He can scream the shit out of your ears and have you begging for more. Acclaimed singer of Slipknot and Stone Sour and newcome author, Taylor is obviously going places. He's been to a lot of places too. Reading, PA was one of them in January. HIS HOTNESS IS UNBEARABLE IN PERSON. From the growls of Pulse Of The Maggots to the smooth depth of Bother and the ice cold chilling voice in Omega, this dude is beyond just being a metal god. He's got one hell of a voice and one hell of a personality paired with one hell of a smokin hot face. I could listen to hours of this guy.


3. Ivan Moody



HOW HOT IS HE?!?! Man, there's just something about great arms, aviators and tattoos that just does it for me. What can I say? I loves me a badass guy. Not to be confused with a "bad boy" which does absolutely nothing for me. If you happen to be wearing a sweet leather jacket? I'm so putty in your hands. The velvety smooth voice that can break off or give way to throttling screams is one of a kind. Been neglecting your ears recently? Did you like Bad Company's "Bad Company?" Turn up the volume and prepare for some eargasms. That's so not a word. THIS POST IS A WIN! Being super attractive, now that's just a bonus.

4. Phil Labonte.


SO BADASS IT'S WORTH HYPERVENTILATING OVER. Yes ladies, reach for that brown lunch bag and get ready to scream your girly heads off because this guy plays to win. Do you see the veins popping out of his arm?!?! I swear, this's gotta be my type. That or I'm a metal fangirl extremist. Maybe both. But if we mean business, this is our guy. Showing a daunting soft side (or as soft as metal gets) with Forever In Your Hands and Two Weeks or just throwing his entire energy into crazy growls and screams in Six and The Air That I Breathe, this vocal range knows no limits. Nor does this hotness.

AND FINALLY

1. M. Shadows

*drool* FOREVER. oh.My.GOD. There is no single possible way to try and put this hotness into words. Now keep in mind, I had to pick ONE picture. Which I couldn't, so I picked two.


AHHHH COULD HE BE ANY CUTER?!?! Despite the fact that he's amazingly hotter than the sun and its inhabitants, he's possibly the sweetest guy in the world. But come on, those eyes, the arms, the body, the face, THE DIMPLES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dear lord this is the greatest looking guy in the universe. And on top of all that, there's his voice. OH. DEAR. GOD. Where to begin!? It's amazinger than amazing. It's better than the best. It's greater than the greatest. It's pretty much perfection. Even in the dog days (which NEVER existed) when he'd never heard of vocal coaching, this guy was amazing. The heartbreaking emotion in Warmness on the Soul, I wish he was singing to me. It feels like he is. Then the throaty growls of Second Heartbeat. The melodic soul in Seize The Day. The chilling echoes of Brompton Cocktail. The blood boiling rage in God Hates Us and the tear jerking beauty of Fiction. This is the God of Metal Gods. This is perfection at its finest. THIS IS THE HOTTEST GUY IN THE WORLD.

So did I get any of yours? Is there someone I missed? Don't worry, someday I'm going to make a post of just hot guys in general. But I'll be going to sleep happy having been able to sit and pick from billions of pictures of Corey Taylor to M. Shadows. BEST. DAY. EVER.

 BADASS

Hilarious
A-FREAKIN-DORABLE

aaaaaaaaand now my fangirl picture freak show is over and we can all resume our totally average lives.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Sister Fail

YES I'M TALKING ABOUT NUNS. Really, I am. But I'm also talking about me too. As you've read in my other posts, I have an older brother. He is too awesome for words. But unfortunately, the other day I realized that I have never once prepared him for interactions with other girls. I know, you must be wondering, "How is that possible? You've only lived together your ENTIRE FREAKIN LIVES!!" This is true. However, I seemed to have failed at teaching him certain things.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS MY OWN OPINION. IT DOES NOT REFER TO ALL GIRLS, JUST TYPICAL GIRLS. THERE ARE LOTS OF GIRLS LIKE ME. BUT THERE ARE A HELL OF A LOT MORE LIKE THIS.


Thing 1:

According to my mother and some of my other friends, apparently girls to not find it entertaining to sit and watch their brothers/boyfriends/husbands/etc play video games for hours and hours on end. This is absolutely astonishing to me. I will never understand this, because watching my brother play video games is one of our many secret bonding activities that we've been doing since I was born and he could use a controller.

Apparently "real", normal girls want their boyfriend/etc to take them places and to talk about things like feelings. FEELINGS. That just sounds disgusting to me. Also dumb. That's very stupid. Regular girls like to go places where their dearly beloved will sit there and listen to them talk hours on end about something Patricia did that was sooooooo 2005 and how they aren't talking anymore. This goes on for hours, like I mentioned beforehand, only to mention in the end about how it was all a misunderstanding because Patricia just got dumped by her boyfriend of forever and she was upset and taking everything out on Stacy but it's okay because they cried and hugged and made up and now they will talk about the shopping spree that occurred afterwards.





Thing 2:

Apparently another thing I have not prepared him for is a flood of unwarranted emotions at any given time. I'm not a very emotional person unless I become heavily invested in something like awesome TV shows like Bones, CSI, Supernatural, Dexter, etc. But apparently normal girls just break into sobs at any given time. For example:

Why is her spine curved? SCOLIOSIS. DEAL WITH IT. So example shows that girls will break out into big tears when confronted with this thing called Nature. But not just regular Nature, SUPER NATURE. Things that have been deemed just "too precious" to not spill water out of eye ducts.

This is only one example. But I''ll get to the others in my Thing examples soon. Girls also break out into sobs when: they make up with a friend, they are fighting with a friend, the flower they tried to grow dies, their nail breaks, their hair is frizzy, they weigh 90 lbs and need to gain weight but "shut up! I'm fat!", they see their friends in love, they are in love, there is a happy ending, and this list goes on forever, but you catch my drift.

Thing 3:

Movies. For a very long time now I have been thrilled and I mean absolutely freaking THRILLED to see any kind of violence, action, explosion, death with blood, guts and other totally necessary gore, and more explosions. This is not to say that I endorse all action movies that have NO PLOT LINE whatsoever. I'm talking to you Ninja Assassin. But I just can't stomach any romantic comedy. Well that's not true. ALMOST any romantic comedy. Just Friends was just too funny. If they took all the romantic out of that movie and made it straight up comedy it'd be movie gold. But not the point. The point is that I will most likely never ever understand the attraction to chick flicks. And by god are they called chick flicks for a reason.

To the guy who made The Notebook, I'm absolutely positive that you've given up the rights to your Y chromosome, so give it to someone that's actually going to use it. I grew up convinced that the author/producer of The Notebook was a girl, because only a girl could write such fantasized "perfection" of such an mundane and absolutely ridiculous concept of whatever in god's name that movie was actually about. However, apparently the author's name is NicoLAS, not Nicola Sparks. A GUY. I hope all men despise this paper thin, waste of manhood. I understand that this man knew where to publish and what to publish to rake in the cash, codeword: teenage girls. However what I don't understand is how he just took that plunge and threw away any sense of being a guy whatsoever for the cash. That just CAN'T be worth it.

This is another example of girls that cry over senseless things. When "The Rev" died, now THAT was worth tears. But the ending of "Dear John"? That was just ridiculous. Horse Sense? How is ANYONE supposed to take that camp name seriously??! Have I ever told you guys how I got dragged into that movie and then got caught trying desperately to sneak into Lego Star Wars instead? Probably not, that's a good story though.  Anyways, like I said, stupid.

Apparently girls do NOT like gore and blood and guts and Star Wars and Lord Of The Rings Trilogy Sessions. Girls like flowers, love and stupid plot lines.


Thing 4:

Music. I do not know how many times I've touched upon this topic, but I can guarantee you're sick of reading about it, so you can just skip this last one. Two words. TAYLOR SWIFT. There are several reasons why I just can't stand her, but I won't go into those today. However what I WILL go into is how her songs are the most stupid things that I've ever heard of. That's saying a lot. But I mean, come on, when you've got pre and teenage girls AND boys running around saying "MY LIFE IS A TAYLOR SWIFT SONG" you know things have gone too far.

Now instead of trying to make my point, I found a video to illustrate it with a much better vocabulary.


Okay, now that aside, that's not my biggest problem. My biggest problem is the reaction I get when I say that I'm into metal music. And this is the response from guys that I get, "What?!?! You can't like metal! You're a GIRL!!!!"

DO YOU SEE WHAT THE HELL YOU'VE DONE YOU DAMN POP PRINCESSES OF SATAN HIMSELF!?!?!?! DO YOU?!!?

I can no longer just throw it out there that my favorite band is Avenged Sevenfold. Now they need proof. It's not that I don't have proof, because I have more than proof. But it's the fact that it's so entirely unbelievable that girls can like anything but Taylor Swift, Lady GaGa and Justin Beiber. I would name you a list of every metal band I liked and then some, but that list would go on forever. Guess who also loves classic rock?? ME.

Example 5: 

Being Petty . Have you ever noticed there's some standard that girls are "catty?" Never understood it. So she slept with your boyfriend, so what? I'm not saying it's forgivable because it's not, but why are you only mad at him?!?! It takes two, remember?! No, not that new one, the catchy one from back in the day. Or Sally stole your favorite nail polish and claims that it's hers now and won't give it back. Seriously? Go buy a new one. But don't sit in your room and cry about how your life is over and how Sally's such a bitch.

Another favorite? Jollie told Jim who told May who told Jake who told Karen that Bobby wants to make out with you! Who. Gives. A. FUCK?!?! Honestly, if it had to go through that many people, the guy's probably NOT interested. But you're so scared because what if he doesn't like your hair or dress?? Obviously if Bobby says you're ugly, the Apocalypse is going to happen. Christ, get it together! Who gives a fuck what Bobby thinks!?! Be independent for once in your life!

And I'm probably being petty. Right now. As I type. But my point is that your "dilemma" is really just a speck of nothingness of a whopping plate of world poverty. Johnny asked Rebecca to the dance even though he promised Karen who told Kate who told Uriah who told you that you'd  be his date! So now you're sitting in your room with a box of Kleenex, a bag of Reese's cups, a pint of Ben and Jerry's and the Titanic on loop, meanwhile some child in Africa just died of AIDS. Really, no, I'm honestly interested in how much worse your life is right now, continue.


So to sum this all up, I've officially prepared my brother for a girl who: Loves metal, gore, video games, Star Wars, Lord of The Rings, comics, machinima and baking. And who Hates: pop music, country, dolls, mermaids, butterflies, romantic things, romantic comedies, and emotions.

Something is telling me this girl doesn't exist in any state near us.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Lint She-Man-He-Man

I'm official college ready. For the past three weeks I've been thriving off of nothing but Ramen noodles and stove top s'mores. THREE WEEKS. College here I come!

I even took the time to draw you a S'more! He's GORGEOUS!


So, I know what you're thinking, "Why does my s'more have chicken pox AIDS?" It doesn't. I don't know about you guys, but our graham crackers come with perforations and these weird holes all over the place. I don't know what the hell the makers of those things were thinking, but they were obviously high when this all went down.

"DUUUUDDEE!!! You know what would make these even better?! WEED!"
"I don't know man, we'd probably get caught..."
"DUUUUUUUDDDDEE let's put holes in 'em!!!"
"YOU'RE A GENIUS!"

And that's why graham crackers are eaten and not adored.

So my mother is convinced that she can't recall ANYTHING from Courage the Cowardly Dog, which was my childhood dream show. Anytime that was on, I was watching.

Tonight we had eggplant. It reminded me of the evil French eggplants from that episode of Courage. I think that show is the reason I grew up hating French people. For some reason, this then reminded me of my absolute favorite episode of Courage that I plan to illustrate for you. If you thought the show was creepy, I recommend skipping this pictures which will be the show on an acid trip.

 This is the she-man-he-man lint person that no one could ever figure out what gender it was. This was my favorite character of all time.



Somehow, in the duration of the 30 minute episode, lint she-man-he-man's hands and feet were replaced by suction cups in an experiment gone wrong (or right depending on how you view the evil gerbil thinger) which in its entirety made this character oh so much more lovable.





This is evil gerbil man with his super creepy yet oh-so-fun-to-sing "It's a Gerbil's World" because copyright infringement would be such a shame.

To spare you from nightmares ridden with more drawings, I think it's best we stop there. You really only needed to see the Lint she-man-he-man.

So today I need to write a few letters to a few people, so bear with me now.

Dear Asshole People Across The Street,
       Did you guys realize it was raining outside today? Did you?! Obviously you didn't because you STILL made sure that those guys came with every loud landscaping instrument ever known to man. Did you not happen to see your dear neighbors across the street had bunnies on their front porch? You had to, because we live DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF YOUR HOUSE! You obviously had to know that these bunnies are very easily frightened by landscaping machines because you were outside gardening when they freaked out and escaped. Not that you bothered to help me catch them because YOU'RE OBLIVIOUS TO EVERYTHING AROUND YOU. This may come as a surprise to you, but it's not good for machines to be running when it's POURING RAIN. It's shocking, I know. THE WORLD KNOWS. I do not know what kind of ignorant town you moved from, but here on our quaint little street, we don't hire people to clean our lawns and trim our bushes and make trellis walls of poison ivy surround our houses. We are a friendly people. We all keep our doors open during the day, but you make a habit to keep yours closed. You've made it quite clear that you are incapable of being just a smidgen neighborly. Maybe it's because you live next to the Guy Who Hits Other People's Cars. But in our neighborhood, WE AREN'T SO LAZY THAT WE HAVE TO PAY OTHER PEOPLE TO MOW OUR FREAKING LAWNS! We are actually nice to each other. HELL my father, the immigrant who hates anything that breathes, is nice to people. Even during the holidays.

Which brings me to my next topic. YOU'RE RUINING OUR HOLIDAY SPIRIT. Assholes From Across The Street, when the season of joy and family love comes around, do you decorate your house like everyone else? When Halloween comes around, do you give out candy? On Easter, do you put a festive decoration on your door and plant flowers like everyone else? YOU'RE A FUCKING JOY NAZI! It doesn't matter whether you believe in holidays or not. You could be Satan himself for God's sake! It's just something people do, to be friendly! People, we haven't seen you go in or out of your house since you moved in THREE YEARS AGO. And despite the rumors that someone had broken into your house and bloodily murdered you all, you HAVE to be alive because when that rare day that your door IS open we can see the flickering TV and murmured giggles. You obviously need to realize that your blatant ignorance to common niceties it making the entire street hate you.


Dear Guy Who Likes To Hit Other People's Cars,
       Where do I start with you? It is not okay that you think that you own the piece of street directly in front of your house. Because it's THE STREET, it's not YOUR street. It belongs to everyone who lives on the street. And before you, the people that lived there would purposefully park in the DRIVEWAY so that there would be an extra spot to park in, especially during the winter. BECAUSE THEY WERE AWESOME. YOU on the other hand act like defending "your" spot is a legitimate reason to car assassination.  And you know that no one is going to report you. Because you've got a little card up your sleeve that's a big "FUCK YOU" to mankind since 1832. It's a little something I like to call, "they're just saying that because they're racist." OH REALLY?!?! Dude, do NOT push us. This street is filled with everything from black to white to asian to indian to pakistani to hispanic. This street is the freaking Melting Pot of UD. It doesn't get more ethnic then this. I will admit, yes there are about two people on our street that are rather racist, but they don't live near you and they have the decency to use their DRIVEWAY.

You think you're being sneaky and clever. You think that if you just "accidentally" bump into someone's car, they'll come out and move it. WELL NOT ANYMORE. See, we're devising a scheme to expose you and your OCD ways. That spot is NOT yours. Because we're getting a friend of ours to park in front of your house. Except this car isn't any ordinary car, this is an undercover cop car. DAMN STRAIGHT BITCH, YOU JUST GOT EXPOSED! And then they will haul your ass off to jail where your wife and three little children will go off at you about how what you were doing was stupid and how you were going to get caught. STOP BEING A SPOT NAZI.

Dear Victoria's Secret,
       I am a bit confused by your latest commercial for the "Showstopper" bra. This is no special bra. This is a T-shirt bra with a fancy name and ridiculous price tag. That is not my problem. My problem is the way that you're advertising it. You are saying that this is the "sexiest bra yet" and that "a woman is at her sexiest when she's flaunting her own natural curves." WHAT?!?! For the past ten years now you've been advertising that less IS NOT AT ALL more. You've been saying, "You're an A cup, forget that, with this bra you'll be a D cup! And then guys will actually want to have sex with you!" You're obviously having some identity issues right now. Because, if you weren't, you would discontinue every single push up bra that you have and start making regular bras. This is obviously not going to happen and this bra will float away in the never ending sea of bad ideas of anything that represents "natural." You obviously deserve an award.



NO, I'm NOT being bitter, I'm being realistic.


But anyways, so that's about it. Here's a picture of the bunnies.






YOUR MOM GOES TO COLLEGE!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Guess Who Probably Desperately Needs To Enroll In Girl School? YOU.

Just kidding, it's me. Now before you go on a rambling rant (was that the same words twice?) about why I don't, I'd like to present to you my reasoning.

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE TO GET A POINT ACROSS

Example 1:
So as I was jamming along to my favorite music, I realized that I may have to reconsider the music that I listen to. How I came to this conclusion was by realizing that singing along to the lyrics, "Dude, is it true that you screwed my mom? Fuck yea bro that pussy was BOMB!" is probably not the best thing for a sixteen year old girl to be shouting in musical harmony. There have been many more instances of this, such as:

"I never claimed that I knew how to dance, but I'll get drunk, get high and pull down my pants" <-- that one's SUPER FREAKIN CATCHY!

"...the ass on my mind is so damn edible. Feast your eyes girl, I'm so delectable. Dick like Hulk, yeah they call me incredible."

"Girl get down you can have more. And you can shake your hips around on my man-sword. You're gonna have to rock this house, I'm your landlord. So let your sweat drip down on the dance floor."

And the entire song of "Everywhere I Go."

Now if you haven't caught on by now of what band makes this misogynisticly catchy music, it's none other than Hollywood Undead. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely ADORE this band. True, they're either singing about getting drunk and fucking prostitutes (or girls that LOOK like prostitutes) or they're singing about deep, meaningful things like how nothing in life is a street paved in gold. So they're basically 50% players and 50% realists and 100% GETTIN PAID!

Example 2:

WARNING: THESE ARE MY OWN PERSONAL OPINIONS AND NOT FACTS.

As I was browsing a magazine, I noticed (and this is in EVERY magazine I've ever read) a section devoted to getting/keeping guys. Now I don't mean in a slave way, I mean in a relationship way. These topics seemed to range from "Best Kissing Tips" to "Flirting Done Right". First of all, really? REALLY??!! I could understand "50 Fun and Affordable Date Ideas" but telling me how to morph myself into a classic teenage girl that listens to angsty Girl "Rock*" and checks Facebook and Twitter constantly (and I mean EVERY fucking second) and other typical teenage girl type things like twirling my hair and laughing even when something is so horridly dumb that a 5 year old would be disappointed in me is just NOT okay.

*this is a sidenote saying that I know for a fact what the girly girls at my school think is rock is **Teegan and Sarah whilst the normal girl realizes that until you've at least hit Rise Against, you're not rock.

**this is a side note for my side note saying that I very rarely approve of females singers in ANY kind of band, but particularly in the alternative/punk/rock/metal stage. this is only because I have found said type of singers only capable to sing about heartbreak, how boys are stupid, how they don't need boys, how a boy is a friend but they love them, and anything else to shell all dignity away from said categories. THAT BEING SAID, it's not to say that I won't give female singers a chance in my book and that's not to say that they cannot sing. although a lot of them really can't. Also, this does not mean that I will not listen to said music, I just refuse to acknowledge it as part of a genre. I'm not saying that females can't be great singers of great rock bands, but I just haven't found many. Amy Lee was pretty good, but a little too high, Lzzy Hale is decent, Carah Charnow is adequate, but needs to tone down the autotune, Liz Enthusiasm had a few great hits, but her genre's just really not my thing, but she was talented. Hayley Williams has such an amazing vocal range that I'd kill my mother for it, but again, sings only of the above topics. Shirley Manson, again an amazing voice, but she sung "girl music" Lacey Mosley had such great vocals and actually sung about worthwhile stuff, sometimes, other times it just wasn't my thing.

And I know I'm gonna get a lot of shit for this next one: I really don't like Joan Jett. I never really have and I never really will. I just do not dig her music. I get she was inspirational and all, but just not for me.

*I forgot to mention one of my absolute favorite female singers that has given me hope in all other female singers, the one and only Amy Heidemann.( I think that's how you spell it...)

Example 3:

I really have a bad time appreciating women's rights. This is proved by example #2 mostly because I DO honestly think that female singers will ALWAYS and I mean always fall short in comparison to a great male lead. This being said: I absolutely cannot stand when male singers sound like female singers. Especially when said shemale singers write about feminine things. They should have their own category. DON'T FUCK UP THE SYSTEM.

Back to women's rights. I just spent twenty minutes writing something that would get my ass kicked every day for the rest of my life. So I deleted it. Because I'm bad at explaining this without seeming like I hate women. It's something I'd have to have a conversation about with you. And maybe still not even then.

Example 4 (even though example 3 was a fail):

I suck at emotions. And relationships. I'm not going to make this too detailed, because you can read about this in countless other posts, but honestly I feel like I unintentionally make my boyfriends turn into girls. This is only because I think I take the dominant male role away from them and there's nothing else for them to do. Or at least that's what's happened so far. I'll keep you updated though.

There are lots of other examples, but the letters on the screen keep getting smaller which is a key sign that I've been on the computer too long and I'm about to get a ridiculously painful migraine.

Long story short, I'm bad at being a girl. But I think I'm even worse when I'm TRYING to be a girl. If you can't imagine that, imagine nail polish trying to be a delicious beverage. That's me being a girl. I KNOW.

However, I am phenomenal at some girl things like: baking, caring for things I care about deeply and protecting them like a BOSS, telling my guy friends when something they're doing is really careless and stupid, painting my nails, wearing makeup, smelling like DELICIOUS, liking poetry, umm caring about animal rights...um OOO I KNOW: seeing the world in shades instead of colors. That's not a blue shirt, that's a cobalt shirt, and that salmon tie does NOT match.

I realize all those things can be done by guys as well and are not strictly just for girls, but that's all I got.

I love GORE so much I'd marry it, I HATE romantic comedies, I've never seen Titanic nor The Notebook and I don't intend to, I my instinct reaction to guys crying is that they're babies and probably whine a lot (this depends on the occasion), I love Video Games with a PASSION, I love comics, I love explosions and fire, I love machinima, I don't mind getting dirty, high heels WILL be the death of me, I don't understand lipgloss, I LOVE LOVE LOVE food all the time anytime, and I couldn't live without a daily dosage of heavy metal. I'd rather be angry than sad. I'm bad at opening up about things and GREAT about pretending they don't exist. I'd totally accept a dare to out head bang you and I'd probably win. I'm really good at using your weaknesses to my advantage. I will curse around you. I'll end up hitting you several times for good measure. I can sit down and watch all the good Star Wars AND Lord Of The Rings with you and be willing to watch them over again. I WILL fight over who's going to pay and I WILL make a scene almost anywhere we go (unintentionally of course). If we pass a Time Crisis machine wherever we go, I will stop and pick up one or both of the guns are start going "pew pew!" shooting at almost anyone that passes by us.

I laugh at myself every time I do something remotely embarassing. I AM capable of coming to guy's night with you, bringing food and watching you and your friends play video games for hours on end without being bored. If I really and I mean REALLY care about you, I'll probably never ever tell you directly. I'm really awkward. I trip over nothing. I hear noises that aren't really there constantly and I will be tricked if you told me you didn't hear anything even if you did. I'll most likely make you give me a piggy back ride when I'm too lazy to walk and gladly accept the challenge to give you one.

I'm crazy opinionated and you just TRY to tell me I can't. TRY. I'm really crazy once you get to know me and I'm usually pretty crazy if you don't. Sometimes I'm really shy for the first few weeks of school but get me talking about something I know (metal, gaming, coordination, etc) and we'll be instant best friends. I really do text at the speed of a dying tortoise, so don't think that I'm waiting 3 minutes before texting you back, because if that happened it wouldn't be 3 minutes, it'd be 10 and it means I probably didn't get your text. I'm secretly publicly a goody two shoes. I say secretly publicly because it depends on the situation. Are we breaking into your diseased neighbors back yard to receive the shoe that I accidentally kicked over the fence even though she has a motion censor light? WE'RE GONNA GET THAT FUCKING THING! Are you keeping a textbook you found randomly in the last classroom you had? We're taking that thing back to where you found it.

Were you comparing what kind of gum you should get and forget to put one back before you left? We're walking back, explaining what happened and apologizing a million times. (that ACTUALLY happened to me.) Except when that happened my friend told me that it didn't really matter. WELL IT MATTERED TO ME. The only problem was that in my explanation of what happened, the owner got confused into thinking that I wanted to buy more gum and a T shirt. It was pretty much my Dollar Store slinky story except this time I was returning accidentally stolen gum.

When I was in sixth grade we had to make this commercial that made buying bibles appealing. Not to let my insane ideas go to waste, I proceeded to make up a character named Marshie, who was a popular person that loved marshmallows. "Marshie like bibles!' That's what I said. No joke. I even made a bookmark that had a picture of a marshmallow on the top which I proceeded to take a chunk out of despite the fact that it was made of paper. GUESS WHO SOLD THE MOST BIBLES??! US.