Currently Listening To: Hope Song by Rock Kills Kid
Lately I've been in a huge funk. I've felt really lethargic and apathetic in every aspect of my life. I've stopped bitching (for the most part), I've lost all interest in the spring play (fingers crossed it gets canned before Friday) and I often find myself staring off into nothing. At this point, I'm attributing it to allergies.
We had to come up with our schedules for next year sometime in the past whenever. I walked into the hallowed halls of our fine academic institution telling myself "Two APs, take it easy next year." At 3:30 on whatever that day was (I think it was last Thursday), I held in my hand a sheet with FIVE AP CLASSES written on it. Holy fuck. I think I'm a masochist. Why would I do that to myself? I mean, the science one will fall three when I don't get a three on physics B, but still, FOUR APs? Shit. Eh, I'll change it later.
Prom is tonight. I'm really not sure how I feel about it. Unenthusiastic comes to mind, but then again, that's how I feel about everything.
Oh, the unfounded woes of suburban youth.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
In Defense Of Death Proof (SPOILERS for every movie mentioned hereafter)
Currently Listening To: Golden Skans by Klaxons
Out of the seven people who saw Grindhouse, at least four have complained almost non-stop about how boring Death Proof was. Sure, it wasn't as good as Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill, or even the movie that came before it, Planet Terror. But if QT had skimmed over all the inane-yet-at-the-same-tiome-interesting girl talk and cut straight to the (SPOILER) awesome car wreck scene, where poor Jungle Julia learned why to keep your leg in the car at all times, it wouldn't have meant anything. Your're supposed to feel sorry for people who die in slasher movies. That's how you get scared. You're supposed to get attached, and so when you see that leg fly through the air and flop around like a dead fish, you're terrified. You've just spent all this time getting to know the girls, and like that, they're gone.
So shut up.
I saw two movies this weekend. On Friday, I saw In The Land of Women with Claire. It was her suggestion (it was a huge chickflick if ever there was one), but don't tell her that. It was AWFUL. I thought it would be a guilty pleasure-type, but that feeling went away the moment I realized it wasn't a comedy. Not at all. It was the whiniest, most anti-dick movie I've ever seen. It was a Lifetime movie of the week on the big screen. Here's the premise: Adam Brody writes softcore porn. Hot foreign model girlfriend dumps him. Sad. Mom tells him gramma is dying. Sadder. He goes to live with her. Meets rebel-artsy teen nextdoor, as well as her cancer-dying-of mother. They both want him (dad's been cheating). He wants neither. An hour and a half later, he leaves, everyone having learned a little bit about themselves. Except grandma. She's dead.
But then last night... I saw Hot Fuzz with Starla and her boyfriend, who I met for the first time last night. He was a cool guy. Anyways, Hot Fuzz was awesome. It was so much better than Shaun of the Dead, and I loved Shaun of the Dead. It was even gorier than Shaun of the Dead, and funnier to boot. Nick Frost, aside from Masi Oka is probably my favorite actor ever. Danny (his character) was absolutely hysterical. The death scenes were good too. And there was a twist I didn't see coming at all. The entire time, I sat there pointing at one character thinking, "Red herring", and then BAM! My world got rocked. So go see it (if you can find it. Fucking limited release, piss me off...)
But yeah, there we go. A nice movie post. And a rant or two or three.
Out of the seven people who saw Grindhouse, at least four have complained almost non-stop about how boring Death Proof was. Sure, it wasn't as good as Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill, or even the movie that came before it, Planet Terror. But if QT had skimmed over all the inane-yet-at-the-same-tiome-interesting girl talk and cut straight to the (SPOILER) awesome car wreck scene, where poor Jungle Julia learned why to keep your leg in the car at all times, it wouldn't have meant anything. Your're supposed to feel sorry for people who die in slasher movies. That's how you get scared. You're supposed to get attached, and so when you see that leg fly through the air and flop around like a dead fish, you're terrified. You've just spent all this time getting to know the girls, and like that, they're gone.
So shut up.
I saw two movies this weekend. On Friday, I saw In The Land of Women with Claire. It was her suggestion (it was a huge chickflick if ever there was one), but don't tell her that. It was AWFUL. I thought it would be a guilty pleasure-type, but that feeling went away the moment I realized it wasn't a comedy. Not at all. It was the whiniest, most anti-dick movie I've ever seen. It was a Lifetime movie of the week on the big screen. Here's the premise: Adam Brody writes softcore porn. Hot foreign model girlfriend dumps him. Sad. Mom tells him gramma is dying. Sadder. He goes to live with her. Meets rebel-artsy teen nextdoor, as well as her cancer-dying-of mother. They both want him (dad's been cheating). He wants neither. An hour and a half later, he leaves, everyone having learned a little bit about themselves. Except grandma. She's dead.
But then last night... I saw Hot Fuzz with Starla and her boyfriend, who I met for the first time last night. He was a cool guy. Anyways, Hot Fuzz was awesome. It was so much better than Shaun of the Dead, and I loved Shaun of the Dead. It was even gorier than Shaun of the Dead, and funnier to boot. Nick Frost, aside from Masi Oka is probably my favorite actor ever. Danny (his character) was absolutely hysterical. The death scenes were good too. And there was a twist I didn't see coming at all. The entire time, I sat there pointing at one character thinking, "Red herring", and then BAM! My world got rocked. So go see it (if you can find it. Fucking limited release, piss me off...)
But yeah, there we go. A nice movie post. And a rant or two or three.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
This is my 701st post
Currently Listening To: It's Not Over Yet by Klaxons
YAY!
So I just finished watching Saturday Night Live, which had Shia Labeouf and Avril Lavigne. Shia was good, but Avril needs to cheer the fuck up. I mean, I know she's teh uber punkage, but she''s on SNL. The show's kind of a big deal. Maybe you could, you know, show a little enthusiasm? It's taxing to be rich, but just give it a shot.
Not sounding like shit might also be worthy of a go.
Disturbia was good. See it. But preferably without the Narrators. Who are the Narrators? They're the people you usually get in a theater who feel compelled to narrate what's going on. I can deal with the "Oh shit"s and the "Why'd he do that?"s, but when people say things like "There's the killer!", "The phone's out!" and the like, it's pretty painful. Yes, we know that such-and-such happened; we're watching the movie too. I swear, it's like some people have never been to a movie before.
I think it would be more pleasant if movie snobs were Narrators. For example, I read this morning that an orange is a forboding sign in movies (Godfather apparently used it, but I've... Not seen it). movie snob-Narrators would see something like that and not only narrate, stating that there is an orange on the screen, but they would also divinate, by reminding us that the orange means someone is going to die. That way, they're bringing something to the table instead of just stating the glaringly obvious.
I take that back. Obvious isn't sufficient. Major plot points aren't obvious. They're more obvious than obvious. They exist on a level such that it is not possible to be paying any sort of attention to the movie and still be unaware of the happening.
I really hate some people.
YAY!
So I just finished watching Saturday Night Live, which had Shia Labeouf and Avril Lavigne. Shia was good, but Avril needs to cheer the fuck up. I mean, I know she's teh uber punkage, but she''s on SNL. The show's kind of a big deal. Maybe you could, you know, show a little enthusiasm? It's taxing to be rich, but just give it a shot.
Not sounding like shit might also be worthy of a go.
Disturbia was good. See it. But preferably without the Narrators. Who are the Narrators? They're the people you usually get in a theater who feel compelled to narrate what's going on. I can deal with the "Oh shit"s and the "Why'd he do that?"s, but when people say things like "There's the killer!", "The phone's out!" and the like, it's pretty painful. Yes, we know that such-and-such happened; we're watching the movie too. I swear, it's like some people have never been to a movie before.
I think it would be more pleasant if movie snobs were Narrators. For example, I read this morning that an orange is a forboding sign in movies (Godfather apparently used it, but I've... Not seen it). movie snob-Narrators would see something like that and not only narrate, stating that there is an orange on the screen, but they would also divinate, by reminding us that the orange means someone is going to die. That way, they're bringing something to the table instead of just stating the glaringly obvious.
I take that back. Obvious isn't sufficient. Major plot points aren't obvious. They're more obvious than obvious. They exist on a level such that it is not possible to be paying any sort of attention to the movie and still be unaware of the happening.
I really hate some people.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I HATE EVERYTHING.
Currently Listening To:
My teen-angst switch has finally been... Switched.
That's right; I'm now officially an angsty teen. The kind who thinks of himself as a martyr; my suburban drama outweighs all the strife in the world today. My strife being that my Spanish teacher is a tyrannical bitch. Less than twelve hours before the end of the gradin period (which decides if you're in study hall or not), she put in a zero for a homework I forgot to do/turn in. As a test grade. My grade dropped 30 points. Needless to say, I was no longer passing. I see this at about 11 that night, with the grading period ending at 9 the next morning. I stay up until 1 doing it and send it in. She receives the e-mail before the deadline, but can't get on a computer. So I miss the 9 a.m. gradelock. Okay, I can deal; not her fault. But when asked if she would excuse everyone who had this happen (I wasn't the only one) from study hall, she said no; we could use it to study for Spanish.
Bitch.
My free period is the one time in the day when I can hang out with Starla and Claire and Annie. But for three or so weeks, I get to spend that time sitting in a classroom doing less homework than I normally do. The level of productivity is literally zilch. AND I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE IN THERE. MY GRADE ARE FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. NO GRADE BELOW A B. THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS. I'm a fairly good student. I've never been in study hall before. My SATs are good and I've got a decent class rank. And for thirteen hours last week, I was failing a class. I forget to do an assignment and because of this, I lose my free period for three weeks. That's bullshit.
This pretty much beought my entire week down. Everything that isn't great just feels like a kick in the balls now. I hate everything. I'm irritable and I just don't care hwat anyone has to say.
Fuck this shit.
My teen-angst switch has finally been... Switched.
That's right; I'm now officially an angsty teen. The kind who thinks of himself as a martyr; my suburban drama outweighs all the strife in the world today. My strife being that my Spanish teacher is a tyrannical bitch. Less than twelve hours before the end of the gradin period (which decides if you're in study hall or not), she put in a zero for a homework I forgot to do/turn in. As a test grade. My grade dropped 30 points. Needless to say, I was no longer passing. I see this at about 11 that night, with the grading period ending at 9 the next morning. I stay up until 1 doing it and send it in. She receives the e-mail before the deadline, but can't get on a computer. So I miss the 9 a.m. gradelock. Okay, I can deal; not her fault. But when asked if she would excuse everyone who had this happen (I wasn't the only one) from study hall, she said no; we could use it to study for Spanish.
Bitch.
My free period is the one time in the day when I can hang out with Starla and Claire and Annie. But for three or so weeks, I get to spend that time sitting in a classroom doing less homework than I normally do. The level of productivity is literally zilch. AND I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE IN THERE. MY GRADE ARE FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. NO GRADE BELOW A B. THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS. I'm a fairly good student. I've never been in study hall before. My SATs are good and I've got a decent class rank. And for thirteen hours last week, I was failing a class. I forget to do an assignment and because of this, I lose my free period for three weeks. That's bullshit.
This pretty much beought my entire week down. Everything that isn't great just feels like a kick in the balls now. I hate everything. I'm irritable and I just don't care hwat anyone has to say.
Fuck this shit.
Monday, April 09, 2007
How Does It Feel To Treat Me Like You Do?
Currently Listening To: Blue Monday by Orgy (I secretly dream of one day having ever cover of this song ever recorded on my computer)
Easter break, tragically, ends today. As I said before, this is a tragedy. Why? Because that means tomorrow, at 6:30, I will be awake. MEHHH.
I've come to the conclusion that my apprehensiveness of college aside, I am without a doubt looking forward to getting away from my sisters. I love them to death, but they're really fucking annoying. That's really the moral of this blog; "Ryan can't stand being with his sisters". All they do is talk and talk and, to be blunt, I don't care. They could be talking about what happened at school or what their friends said at lunch today or their dance classes; I just don't care. And the enlightened middle school input in every discussion gets old. Guess what? You have no idea what you're talking about. Not about prom, or dating, or what guys like to wear; none of that. Give up.
This seems/is infinitely mean-spirited, but it seems like either they've gotten worse or my tolerance of their shit has gone to shit.
My brother is yelling at his vidyogame and it's really stressing me out. I'm concerned.
Easter break, tragically, ends today. As I said before, this is a tragedy. Why? Because that means tomorrow, at 6:30, I will be awake. MEHHH.
I've come to the conclusion that my apprehensiveness of college aside, I am without a doubt looking forward to getting away from my sisters. I love them to death, but they're really fucking annoying. That's really the moral of this blog; "Ryan can't stand being with his sisters". All they do is talk and talk and, to be blunt, I don't care. They could be talking about what happened at school or what their friends said at lunch today or their dance classes; I just don't care. And the enlightened middle school input in every discussion gets old. Guess what? You have no idea what you're talking about. Not about prom, or dating, or what guys like to wear; none of that. Give up.
This seems/is infinitely mean-spirited, but it seems like either they've gotten worse or my tolerance of their shit has gone to shit.
My brother is yelling at his vidyogame and it's really stressing me out. I'm concerned.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Finger Puppets
It's quite bizarre, this collection of mine. Don't even ask, you wouldn't understand. BUT, you would buy them here. I got Buddha, Che and Frida on the Maine trip (damn, that was two years ago. Frightening). I got Bush, Kim Jong-Il, Saddam and Khamenei in an "Axis of Evil" box in Little Five Points in February. I bought Gandhi at Disney over Sprag Breek. I got Karl Marx, Teddy Roosevelt, Joan of Arc and Napoleon and the Authors set (Shakespeare, Dickens, Virginia Woolf and Tolstoy) today, for Easter. So yes, I am 16 and I still get toys as gifts. Sad? A little. But then again, you've never made a pornographic puppet show starring Buddha as a sex therapist helping the failing marriage between Che Guevara and Frida Khalo, now have you?
That's what I thought.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
I Get The Feeling...
Currently Watching: Scrubs
...That Grindhouse will come to be known as the greatest film ever. It will sweep the Oscars, winning every award. Statues will be built to commemorate it, and politicians will run using their involvment in the film as a platform. It will cure every disease, end world hunger and bring about world peace. It will part the oceans and realign the constellations. In the future, when the last copy of the film is finally lost, the world...
...Will end.
GRINDHOUSE.
IT IS EVERYTHING.
...That Grindhouse will come to be known as the greatest film ever. It will sweep the Oscars, winning every award. Statues will be built to commemorate it, and politicians will run using their involvment in the film as a platform. It will cure every disease, end world hunger and bring about world peace. It will part the oceans and realign the constellations. In the future, when the last copy of the film is finally lost, the world...
...Will end.
GRINDHOUSE.
IT IS EVERYTHING.
Last.fm (clickies)
Currently Listening To: Munich by Editors
I know I'm not exactly on the cutting edge here, but I just signed up for this site. It looked interesting enough, and it claims to help find new bands to listen to, which is something I often try and fail at. If you've got one, add me. My name is knifeyjames.
I was gonna go see HelloGoodbye today at Centennial, but it was raining. April showers... Man, fuck April showers. I wanted to go see hellogoodbye for free. How often is someone presented with an opportunity like that? And these 'cloud' assholes have to go and screw things up. Fuck the weather.
Rain actually isn't all bad. Except when it fucks up my plans. Pollen, on the other hand, is never good. Flowers? Fuck flowers. Pollen is one-hundred percent inconvenient.
The Kaiser Chiefs CD is excellent. Pure, sweet and undilluted excellence. Mmmmmmmm.
Prom is in less than a month. I am dreading this ridiculous celebration of nothing. Corsages for the ladies, buying/renting a tux, dinner plans. Argh. This is agravating. I know it sounds stupid, but I really have to go. Theym ake all the juniors do work on it, and that would be even stupider for me to help out with it and not go.
And for some reason, when I tell people that I'm going with a group rather than with one person, it's like I've got green skin or something. They're like, "...Huh? Is that even possible?" YARGH.
PIRATA.
I know I'm not exactly on the cutting edge here, but I just signed up for this site. It looked interesting enough, and it claims to help find new bands to listen to, which is something I often try and fail at. If you've got one, add me. My name is knifeyjames.
I was gonna go see HelloGoodbye today at Centennial, but it was raining. April showers... Man, fuck April showers. I wanted to go see hellogoodbye for free. How often is someone presented with an opportunity like that? And these 'cloud' assholes have to go and screw things up. Fuck the weather.
Rain actually isn't all bad. Except when it fucks up my plans. Pollen, on the other hand, is never good. Flowers? Fuck flowers. Pollen is one-hundred percent inconvenient.
The Kaiser Chiefs CD is excellent. Pure, sweet and undilluted excellence. Mmmmmmmm.
Prom is in less than a month. I am dreading this ridiculous celebration of nothing. Corsages for the ladies, buying/renting a tux, dinner plans. Argh. This is agravating. I know it sounds stupid, but I really have to go. Theym ake all the juniors do work on it, and that would be even stupider for me to help out with it and not go.
And for some reason, when I tell people that I'm going with a group rather than with one person, it's like I've got green skin or something. They're like, "...Huh? Is that even possible?" YARGH.
PIRATA.
Augh, I Be Makin' Breakfast, Far I Got No Wife
Currently Listening To: Australia by the Shins
I learned to cook this week. My dad taught me.
...Well, I can cook one thing: Eggy-In-The-Basket. It's good. No, it's awesolicious. And it reminds me of V For Vendetta. If I awoke to Natalie Portman handing me a plate of Eggy-In-The-Basket...
My hatred of American Idol is like a fountain that seems to be putting out more and more water all the time, even though that water wasn't there to begin with. That's right, my hatred for that show does not obey the law of conservation of mass. My hatred of American Idol could fuel a perpetual motion device. FOX 5 is not a legitimate news source, not because it consults FOX News, but because it reports on Idol incessantly. And those smarmy assholes are the whitest motherfuckers alive, even the black guy, who is whiter thant the white guy.
Why do people like Amrican Idol? ARGH.
This is a dud post. I'm sorry.
I'm facing the android's conundrum.
I learned to cook this week. My dad taught me.
...Well, I can cook one thing: Eggy-In-The-Basket. It's good. No, it's awesolicious. And it reminds me of V For Vendetta. If I awoke to Natalie Portman handing me a plate of Eggy-In-The-Basket...
My hatred of American Idol is like a fountain that seems to be putting out more and more water all the time, even though that water wasn't there to begin with. That's right, my hatred for that show does not obey the law of conservation of mass. My hatred of American Idol could fuel a perpetual motion device. FOX 5 is not a legitimate news source, not because it consults FOX News, but because it reports on Idol incessantly. And those smarmy assholes are the whitest motherfuckers alive, even the black guy, who is whiter thant the white guy.
Why do people like Amrican Idol? ARGH.
This is a dud post. I'm sorry.
I'm facing the android's conundrum.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Mmmm, Chocolate.
So yeah, concuming a crappy cellular communication contraption.
Yesterday I recieved a contusion from a folding chair to the face. I'll explain when the picture is uploaded to facebook and I get a chance to swipe it.
Yesterday I recieved a contusion from a folding chair to the face. I'll explain when the picture is uploaded to facebook and I get a chance to swipe it.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Penny
Currently Listening To: Hurt You by the Sounds (it's on repeat)
Today's adventure begins whilst our hero, the dashing Clive Dangerously, was perusing the newspaper, wherein he spotted an ad from Target advertising some mad-crazy deals on CDs. Realizing that there were at least two he would be delighted to purchase, Clive ponders how to come about obtaining such an item. "I've got a bowl of change downstairs! Surely that's enough" Problem solved.
Right?
Obviously not. I was talking with some folk at Sunday School today and Kelly said that they're phasing out the penny because it costs more to make than it's worth (costs 1.4 cents, worth .98). Then I started to feel bad because so many of my precious coins are pennies, and if they're going to be worth more soon, why throw them away? I eventually decided it would be justifiable to cash in the change at coinstar and moved on.
But later I looked it up on wikipedia and saw some interesting stuff. Obviously the loss of the one-cent piece would complicate things, but there is a solution: rounding. Purchases made in cash are rounded to the nearest ten-cents, like math. Pretty simple. Sure, you lose a few cents here and there, but never more than three. And you can gain up to two cents, so... It's cool. Go for it.
The two CDs are Kaiser Chiefs' Yours Truly, Angry Mob and the Mika CD, which I'd guess is called Mika. Makes CENTS.
Today's adventure begins whilst our hero, the dashing Clive Dangerously, was perusing the newspaper, wherein he spotted an ad from Target advertising some mad-crazy deals on CDs. Realizing that there were at least two he would be delighted to purchase, Clive ponders how to come about obtaining such an item. "I've got a bowl of change downstairs! Surely that's enough" Problem solved.
Right?
Obviously not. I was talking with some folk at Sunday School today and Kelly said that they're phasing out the penny because it costs more to make than it's worth (costs 1.4 cents, worth .98). Then I started to feel bad because so many of my precious coins are pennies, and if they're going to be worth more soon, why throw them away? I eventually decided it would be justifiable to cash in the change at coinstar and moved on.
But later I looked it up on wikipedia and saw some interesting stuff. Obviously the loss of the one-cent piece would complicate things, but there is a solution: rounding. Purchases made in cash are rounded to the nearest ten-cents, like math. Pretty simple. Sure, you lose a few cents here and there, but never more than three. And you can gain up to two cents, so... It's cool. Go for it.
The two CDs are Kaiser Chiefs' Yours Truly, Angry Mob and the Mika CD, which I'd guess is called Mika. Makes CENTS.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
CRAZY BITCH
Currently Listening To: Hurt You by the Sounds
Some crazy woman keeps calling me. Well, not calling me, but calling our house, and I'm the only one who picks up. She's looking for my mom and I'm all, "my moms not hear call bak l8r, sk8r. kthnxbai" and then she's all, "Indeed." Then she calls back 15 minutes later and I say to her, "yo btich she aint got time 2 ghet home yet". So now when the phone rings (and it always does at our house because we're super popular) I run upstairs to see the caller ID, then run back downstairs and pick up the phone to make sure it isn't her.
Some crazy woman keeps calling me. Well, not calling me, but calling our house, and I'm the only one who picks up. She's looking for my mom and I'm all, "my moms not hear call bak l8r, sk8r. kthnxbai" and then she's all, "Indeed." Then she calls back 15 minutes later and I say to her, "yo btich she aint got time 2 ghet home yet". So now when the phone rings (and it always does at our house because we're super popular) I run upstairs to see the caller ID, then run back downstairs and pick up the phone to make sure it isn't her.
I'm ready MISERY right now. It's another non-supernatural Stevie King book. It's really good. But it's from the school library. Two things:
- I get the impression that no one ever checks those books out, because I walked up to the check-out desk and had to actually say, "I'd like to check out a book." I thought it was just understood, but no.
- Whoever had the book last appeared to have played with the book more than read it. There are little notes (and not for like a book club or something, but notes to people) spread throughout the book and I found a few pages (next to each other, of course) with holes in them. Burned into them. Wow.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Why Show Support By Actually Doing Something When You Can Make A Half
Currently Listening To: Atlantis To Interzone (Crystal Castles Remix) by Klaxons
I was pondering this while roaming the Magic Kingdom, and was reminded while perusing myspace today. The thing that reminded me on myspace was a bulletin I saw about loving your mom. That's a good cause, right? Moms do a lot of work, and they need a lot of appreciation, most of which they don't get. But the last line had something to do with "If you don't repost this, you obviously don't care if your mom dies or not". TOTALLY unnecesary. You got this nice, "always consider what your mom does for you" little piece of glurge, and then BAM! The obligatory repost threat. I cannot, cannot, cannot stand the repost threats. I don't care if I'm threatened with a year of bad luck, eternal damnation ('appreciate Jesus' posts) or 'you don't love your mom' hanging over my head, it just gets old. That is the one thing that keeps myspace from achieving interweb greatness in my mind: the plebes.
...But that's not the worst. What REALLY got me on about this rant is the Red campaign. You've probably seen the (red) shirts and iPods and countless other goodies you can buy. I will say, the idea behind Product Red is incredibly noble and worthwhile. Fighting AIDS and malaria and TB in Africa is a great cause. But everything else they stand for isn't. And when I say "everything else they stand for", I mean "being a stuck-up asshole in love iwth him or her self". People who own these shirts and iPods and whatever else get the feeling, upon recieving the item, that they and they alone have just saved the world. While the rest of us were just sitting on our asses reading whiny diatrabes on the internet, these people were out there making a difference; these people BOUGHT A T-SHIRT. That means they care. Oh yes, they care. Caring isn't directly donating money to these causes, no sir! You do not care unless your money goes to two places. Ten percent goes to these dying children in Africa, while the rest fuels sweatshops in southeast Asia (those kids don't matter) and the pockets of the shareholders of the GAP and Apple (and yes, I a ma hypocrite, considering I own products from both). So while you sit there in your living room, these people are doing something: they're sitting in THEIR living rooms wearing t-shirts.
If you need a product to make more tangible the fact that you care, you're in it for all the wrong reasons. Charity isn't meant to be trendy. It's meant to be charitable.
And in much less important/relevant news, I was rudely forced to update several accounts today. Both my blogger and my flickr accounts forced me to update to the most current... things. The beta thingy. What can I say, I tend to resist change. Frustration abounds. I'm not sure how I feel about this new Blogger.
I was pondering this while roaming the Magic Kingdom, and was reminded while perusing myspace today. The thing that reminded me on myspace was a bulletin I saw about loving your mom. That's a good cause, right? Moms do a lot of work, and they need a lot of appreciation, most of which they don't get. But the last line had something to do with "If you don't repost this, you obviously don't care if your mom dies or not". TOTALLY unnecesary. You got this nice, "always consider what your mom does for you" little piece of glurge, and then BAM! The obligatory repost threat. I cannot, cannot, cannot stand the repost threats. I don't care if I'm threatened with a year of bad luck, eternal damnation ('appreciate Jesus' posts) or 'you don't love your mom' hanging over my head, it just gets old. That is the one thing that keeps myspace from achieving interweb greatness in my mind: the plebes.
...But that's not the worst. What REALLY got me on about this rant is the Red campaign. You've probably seen the (red) shirts and iPods and countless other goodies you can buy. I will say, the idea behind Product Red is incredibly noble and worthwhile. Fighting AIDS and malaria and TB in Africa is a great cause. But everything else they stand for isn't. And when I say "everything else they stand for", I mean "being a stuck-up asshole in love iwth him or her self". People who own these shirts and iPods and whatever else get the feeling, upon recieving the item, that they and they alone have just saved the world. While the rest of us were just sitting on our asses reading whiny diatrabes on the internet, these people were out there making a difference; these people BOUGHT A T-SHIRT. That means they care. Oh yes, they care. Caring isn't directly donating money to these causes, no sir! You do not care unless your money goes to two places. Ten percent goes to these dying children in Africa, while the rest fuels sweatshops in southeast Asia (those kids don't matter) and the pockets of the shareholders of the GAP and Apple (and yes, I a ma hypocrite, considering I own products from both). So while you sit there in your living room, these people are doing something: they're sitting in THEIR living rooms wearing t-shirts.
If you need a product to make more tangible the fact that you care, you're in it for all the wrong reasons. Charity isn't meant to be trendy. It's meant to be charitable.
And in much less important/relevant news, I was rudely forced to update several accounts today. Both my blogger and my flickr accounts forced me to update to the most current... things. The beta thingy. What can I say, I tend to resist change. Frustration abounds. I'm not sure how I feel about this new Blogger.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Tattoo--Sort Of
I got bored during my history exam. Moreover, I had run out of steam and lost my focus, so I was just kind of passing the time (not the exam). I remembered this one time in 7th grade when I played connect the freckles during a boring history class. So there I ams, doing it again, four years later. As I dragged my pen across my tender, supple young arm, I thought to myself, "Gee, this sure does look like history notes. I hope no one sees them and thinks that I'm cheating!" Not a second later, Coach McDurmond, in his persistant not-blinkingness, taps me on the shoulder. I almost died, right then and there, of a fatal combination of magic and a heart attack. He looks at me and says, "Can I help you get focused again?" SAFE.
Our story picks up again once more the next day. I hadn't really put forth much scrubbing effort on the arm in the shower that morning, and at lunch, I found myself at the dots once more. So we're talking (well, everyone else is; I'm doodling) and then I hear everyone say hello to someone. This is followed by dead silence until someone kindly gets my attention. Lo and behold, Mr. McDurmond picks the same sandwich shop we did.
Better a non-bathing hippie than a cheat, right? RIGHT?
Our story picks up again once more the next day. I hadn't really put forth much scrubbing effort on the arm in the shower that morning, and at lunch, I found myself at the dots once more. So we're talking (well, everyone else is; I'm doodling) and then I hear everyone say hello to someone. This is followed by dead silence until someone kindly gets my attention. Lo and behold, Mr. McDurmond picks the same sandwich shop we did.
Better a non-bathing hippie than a cheat, right? RIGHT?
Friday, March 09, 2007
Panda Loses Leg In Bar Fight, Needs Robo-Leg to Bang Mate
Currently Listening To: Shimmy Shimmy Quarter Turn by Hellogoodbye
There really isn't much else to say about this panda. I summarized the article pretty well in the title. But, I will say that if more animals were exciting like that, I might not hate them as much. I mean, that's a pretty effing cool panananada.
I suppose they could try buying a new leg... Oh wait, he lives in China. TRY LOVING FREEDOM YOU COMMIE BASTARD PANDA. STOP MOOCHING OFF OF US FREEDOM-LOVERS.
Exam week is over, which is good. But it also leaves me bitter. Bitter about how awful I did, and continually do, on exams. The fact that I lack the motivation and willpower to put in serious study time is irrelevant. Obviously the teachers at my school are conspiring against me. Perhaps they are a part of the International Conspiracy.
There really isn't much else to say about this panda. I summarized the article pretty well in the title. But, I will say that if more animals were exciting like that, I might not hate them as much. I mean, that's a pretty effing cool panananada.
I suppose they could try buying a new leg... Oh wait, he lives in China. TRY LOVING FREEDOM YOU COMMIE BASTARD PANDA. STOP MOOCHING OFF OF US FREEDOM-LOVERS.
Exam week is over, which is good. But it also leaves me bitter. Bitter about how awful I did, and continually do, on exams. The fact that I lack the motivation and willpower to put in serious study time is irrelevant. Obviously the teachers at my school are conspiring against me. Perhaps they are a part of the International Conspiracy.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Complaint Department
Currently Listening To: Song For Clay [Disappear Here]
Daddy. Few words have the ability to make me cringe in a more dramatic way than this.
Don't get me wrong. Little kids can say it. I avoid little kids, so it's not an issue. But if you're, say, in the double digits... FORGET ABOUT IT. Never, ever say daddy. Don't call your father daddy to his face. Don't refer to him as that when he's not in the room. Don't even call him that in your diary. Never, ever use it. It's like the n-word, but without the whole racial, 500 years of injustice and intolerance aspect. So maybe that's a horrible example. Instead, it's like Fall Out Boy.
But I digress. "Clive, how did you come to this revelation?" My sister said it tonight. I know, that's terrible to get on here and whine about her. But it's not just her. There's this other girl at school who, despite having lived in northwest Georgia her entire life, just like her family for the past 100+ years, has a HUGE Valley Girl accent. And then she calls her dad and says, "Daddy... [pitiful, Zoolander sounding cough] I'm not feeling well, can I come home?" And she does this little head-bop thing and she's got this stupid smirk... "Daddy, can I, like, borrow your credit card?" "Daddy" "Daddy" "Da-" SHUT THE FUCK UP. You're not a character on a popular TV show about bitchy brats who live on the coast. In fact, you're not popular... At all. Give it up. Nyaw.
Daddy. Few words have the ability to make me cringe in a more dramatic way than this.
Don't get me wrong. Little kids can say it. I avoid little kids, so it's not an issue. But if you're, say, in the double digits... FORGET ABOUT IT. Never, ever say daddy. Don't call your father daddy to his face. Don't refer to him as that when he's not in the room. Don't even call him that in your diary. Never, ever use it. It's like the n-word, but without the whole racial, 500 years of injustice and intolerance aspect. So maybe that's a horrible example. Instead, it's like Fall Out Boy.
But I digress. "Clive, how did you come to this revelation?" My sister said it tonight. I know, that's terrible to get on here and whine about her. But it's not just her. There's this other girl at school who, despite having lived in northwest Georgia her entire life, just like her family for the past 100+ years, has a HUGE Valley Girl accent. And then she calls her dad and says, "Daddy... [pitiful, Zoolander sounding cough] I'm not feeling well, can I come home?" And she does this little head-bop thing and she's got this stupid smirk... "Daddy, can I, like, borrow your credit card?" "Daddy" "Daddy" "Da-" SHUT THE FUCK UP. You're not a character on a popular TV show about bitchy brats who live on the coast. In fact, you're not popular... At all. Give it up. Nyaw.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Jalapeno
Wolfing down some peppas at the Dread Rumpus, which actually wasn't all that bad. AND I get to miss school at a later date to go to Atlanta as part of the prize.
Damn, I'm fat. Look at me eat like some kind of pro. Apparently I did the peppers the fastest. It hurt like hell. I've never eaten anything so spicy in my life.
And I slept in a box that night.
Damn, I'm fat. Look at me eat like some kind of pro. Apparently I did the peppers the fastest. It hurt like hell. I've never eaten anything so spicy in my life.
And I slept in a box that night.
After "Fishing"
From the photo shoot of nothing. Props were involved. I was in a compromising situation with some mayonaise, and things went south.
ALL OVER MY BEAUTIFUL FACE.
ALL OVER MY BEAUTIFUL FACE.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
I Am A Cocky Braggart
Currently Listening To: Dope Nose by Weezer
So yesterday, somebody told me that I was "out of line" by waving around my SAT scores. "Waving around" meaning posting a myspace bulletin about it. I don't really feel like I was waving it around. I mean, the subject line pretty clearly said "SAT". If you were expecting, say, something besides SATs, well, you're an idiot. If you don't want to hear about SAT scores for whatever reason (which is not an issue), don't read it. Simple, no? But apparently...
My theory, as assholish as it sounds, is that, this person, who constantly talks about college and grades and how everything's already been planned by him to a point, is angry because a slacker like me did better than him. Not by a lot. His score was good. Mine was just a little better. And when we both take it a second time, his might go up and mine might go down. But to say that I'm wrong for announcing it (and only to those who actually care to read about it) is just stupid.
It's really sad to see someone that I used to respect descend into suckiness. Maybe I'm like this too. Maybe everyone is. But it seems like he's made several 180 turns in the past year. Joke-cracking asshole (in the best way possible) to Bible-thumber to college-obsessed... person. And he's completely oblivious. I know this doesn't really reflect well on my character/quality as a friend, but how can you stick with someone when they change that much? And when they're that obnoxious to be around? He really isn't the same person at all as when I met him in middle school, or the same person as he was freshman year. And it may have been wrong to "erase" him (and bad mouth him on the internet, but then again I'm not good for much else), but...
[this is where I lost my train of thought]
So yeah. It's tough to be around him, but he's oblivious. All I seem to do lately is struggle with letting people down easy.
So yesterday, somebody told me that I was "out of line" by waving around my SAT scores. "Waving around" meaning posting a myspace bulletin about it. I don't really feel like I was waving it around. I mean, the subject line pretty clearly said "SAT". If you were expecting, say, something besides SATs, well, you're an idiot. If you don't want to hear about SAT scores for whatever reason (which is not an issue), don't read it. Simple, no? But apparently...
My theory, as assholish as it sounds, is that, this person, who constantly talks about college and grades and how everything's already been planned by him to a point, is angry because a slacker like me did better than him. Not by a lot. His score was good. Mine was just a little better. And when we both take it a second time, his might go up and mine might go down. But to say that I'm wrong for announcing it (and only to those who actually care to read about it) is just stupid.
It's really sad to see someone that I used to respect descend into suckiness. Maybe I'm like this too. Maybe everyone is. But it seems like he's made several 180 turns in the past year. Joke-cracking asshole (in the best way possible) to Bible-thumber to college-obsessed... person. And he's completely oblivious. I know this doesn't really reflect well on my character/quality as a friend, but how can you stick with someone when they change that much? And when they're that obnoxious to be around? He really isn't the same person at all as when I met him in middle school, or the same person as he was freshman year. And it may have been wrong to "erase" him (and bad mouth him on the internet, but then again I'm not good for much else), but...
[this is where I lost my train of thought]
So yeah. It's tough to be around him, but he's oblivious. All I seem to do lately is struggle with letting people down easy.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Anna Nicole Smith Needs To Fade From The Headlines
Currently Listening To:Ruby by Kaiser Chiefs
Like every other celebrity to recently die, people only care AFTER the heart stops beating. Seriosuly, quit. She wouldn't be the top story if she were still alive. No more.
It's been a while since I updated (I think). Warrants an update on "things":
I'm going spelunking this weekend with Claire and Starla and Logan and Andy and Dane and some extras. Redshirts. Psh.
I'ma post some rants from myspace. Yup, you guys get the leftovers. Mostly becuase no one reads this, so I figure no one'll notice/care.
"Some people can really be pricks about this whole college thing. Don't be one of them. I've noticed a lot of them lately. My best advice would be to: a) don't make a face when people say where they're going/want to go to college. I suppose if it's the rival of wherever YOU said you're going/want to go, it'd be okay, but otherwise... Cha. And b) don't make a face in response to hearing SAT scores. Really don't do anything negative, because that's just a prick thing to do. Unless you're really arrogant, most people tend to imagine people as being their mental equal. So when they hear other people's scores, they think "Gah, that's terrible"; but it's not. That person could have had a bad day, or they could just not be good at Standardized tests. So yeah, don't be a prick." --That was from when the SAT scores came out.
"I am so done with this. I've existed most of my life without drama, realizing very well that I don't live on Degrassi or the OC or Dawson or whatever. But some people... Some people simply cannot let me continue in my peaceful existance.
I tried to be civil. I tried to be nice. But apparently, I'm still a jerk. TRICK. I sat there and took at while you ignored me saying to be "just friends". But when I ignore you trying to work it out and make a relationship or whatever, I'm a jerk. You know what? Fuck you. And I don't mean that in the "let's hook up" sense. I don't want to talk to you any more. I don't want to recieve your text messages, or your phone calls. Leave me alone. When I said I didn't think a relationship would work out, I meant it. I'm sorry if you thought I was leading you on but I didn't mean to. I tried to be frriendly and you wouldn't have it, so we're done. " --This was my little "break up"
Fin.
Like every other celebrity to recently die, people only care AFTER the heart stops beating. Seriosuly, quit. She wouldn't be the top story if she were still alive. No more.
It's been a while since I updated (I think). Warrants an update on "things":
- School is going better.
- Got a 2060 on my SAT. On the "old scale", that's a 1390. That's pretty good.
- Lent started. I gave up soda, being a dick to people and I resolved to be better about time management, like getting homework done and watching less TV. Important stuff, 'kay?
- Got into Stephen King. Thus far, I've read Cell and 'Salem's Lot. The Dead Zone is next. The Stand will be this summer, and I'll read Pet Semetary last. That was my dad's last, and he couldn't make it through. Paint me intrigued.
- "Broke up" with a girl. We never really dated... At all. But I cut all ties. It was like a high school drama show, and so I lost all interest in being her acquaintance.
I'm going spelunking this weekend with Claire and Starla and Logan and Andy and Dane and some extras. Redshirts. Psh.
I'ma post some rants from myspace. Yup, you guys get the leftovers. Mostly becuase no one reads this, so I figure no one'll notice/care.
"Some people can really be pricks about this whole college thing. Don't be one of them. I've noticed a lot of them lately. My best advice would be to: a) don't make a face when people say where they're going/want to go to college. I suppose if it's the rival of wherever YOU said you're going/want to go, it'd be okay, but otherwise... Cha. And b) don't make a face in response to hearing SAT scores. Really don't do anything negative, because that's just a prick thing to do. Unless you're really arrogant, most people tend to imagine people as being their mental equal. So when they hear other people's scores, they think "Gah, that's terrible"; but it's not. That person could have had a bad day, or they could just not be good at Standardized tests. So yeah, don't be a prick." --That was from when the SAT scores came out.
"I am so done with this. I've existed most of my life without drama, realizing very well that I don't live on Degrassi or the OC or Dawson or whatever. But some people... Some people simply cannot let me continue in my peaceful existance.
I tried to be civil. I tried to be nice. But apparently, I'm still a jerk. TRICK. I sat there and took at while you ignored me saying to be "just friends". But when I ignore you trying to work it out and make a relationship or whatever, I'm a jerk. You know what? Fuck you. And I don't mean that in the "let's hook up" sense. I don't want to talk to you any more. I don't want to recieve your text messages, or your phone calls. Leave me alone. When I said I didn't think a relationship would work out, I meant it. I'm sorry if you thought I was leading you on but I didn't mean to. I tried to be frriendly and you wouldn't have it, so we're done. " --This was my little "break up"
Fin.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
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