The end. :U
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The super hero of literature
(This posts pictures will be a little bit more... crude. I was more interested in making the story well written. I had to give up quality somewhere.)
When I was younger, reading was a bit of an abstract concept for me. I looked at the alphabet like an archeologist trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. I. Didn't. Get it. Much like how I couldn't understand analog clocks and why I had to learn how to read them when we had digital clocks, but that is another story.
So when I was five, and the time came for learning how to arrange letters into semi-intelligible words, I was like "Fuck that, I'm playing in the sandbox." Sadly, this was not an option. So I hid behind the toy chest, and in the closet. When that failed, I cried until the teacher let me go to the nurse, where I stayed until my parents came to pick me up. Feeling triumphant, I watched as the other kids learned to spell things like "cat" and "ball" and "tree". I felt like a ninja. I had tricked my teacher and now I would never have to learn spelling or reading ever! I won!
Little did I know, that when Monday came 'round again, I would have to deal with reading all over again.
I pretended to be sick.
I'm not sure how I actually convinced my mom that I was ill, but whatever I did, it worked.
And then I actually became sick. With strep throat. God truly a just and cruel God.
Several days later, I came back to kindergarten when the other kids were moving on in their studies and were getting books read to them. I was pissed. I was all like "But the OTHER KIDS aren't writing anymore! I don't want to understand the alphabet! Fuck you teacher!" Only I didn't actually say "fuck you teacher". I think. I also didn't seem to understand the concept of make-up work yet.
So, my teacher just sat with me in the back of the classroom, showing me how letters were like friends and they all wanted to be joined together into cliques called "words". I was skeptical, like I thought the teacher was just fucking with me and it was all a huge joke. I grew resentful of words and reading, and only got down the very basics to placate my teacher and I could go outside and play Titanic with my friends. Even though I hadn't actually seen Titanic. I knew it involved a sinking boat and a girl named 'Rose', or something. I was always the poor guy that drew her naked. The jungle gym was the boat.
And then came first grade, when we were introduced spelling tests. I think. I remember having to spell them, "them" being words. I really wanted to be smart. I wanted to be the first kid to raise their hand, so I could feel better than the other kids. Never mind that I didn't even know how to spell 'robin', I was the smartest kid in the class. No one was going to tell me otherwise.
(On the note of first grade, I think I should mention that I didn't identify well with girls. I played with boys and we pretended to be archeologists and would dig up cat paw prints in the mud and would pretend that they were dinosaur tracks. I was also what people would call an affectionate child, so I gave a lot of hugs. This translated into my teacher once telling my parents that I was "very friendly, especially with boys" (read as: "she is a whore and you should get her to a psychiatrist before she starts giving hand-jobs to feed her heroin addiction"). Thanks, Mrs. Patterson.)
(I also feel it is pertinent to tell you that my school didn't have any walls. Let me repeat that: NO WALLS. There were book cases and black boards separating the classrooms. "Classrooms" being a general term. When I went to a school that DID have walls, I was flabbergasted. It was like I was an alien learning to interact with people and telling teachers that my teacher needed to borrow a marker without just yelling.)
Anyway, I just trailed behind the other kids, never quite getting the hang of it, and not being able to read anything over the kindergarten level.
Until second grade.
It was then that I got tired of being made fun of because I couldn't spell or read in front of the class. This only got worse when we were supposed to draw scary pictures for Halloween, and I drew a vampire ghost which also seemed to be very sympathetic to bats. I meant to illustrate this by drawing a dying bat in her hand, complete with blood splattered everywhere, and a speech bubble from the vampire ghost saying "proo baft". My teacher wouldn't even put it on the black board (mostly because there was fucking blood everywhere, but I also think it was because she was so ashamed of my spelling).
I'd had enough, goddamnit. I was going to prove to them that I wasn't brain damaged, dyslexic, or just plain stupid. I was going to be the greatest reader and speller in the whole wide class, and no one would impede my ultimate goal of becoming the god of reading.
That's when I started going to my school's library. I wasn't going to become a master of the literary arts just by staring at words until they started to make sense.
The first book I read of my own free will was some book about a kid that picked blueberries. It was on a third grade level, and after reading through it a few times, I felt a false sense of accomplishment- like I had just discovered the cure for bird flu.
And that's when I vowed to the world that I would read and read and read until I was the best at anything involving words. What I especially liked reading were gems such as Junie B. Jones and any horror story I could get my hands off. My favorite book ever until I was about twelve was a book by Mary Downing Hahn called Wait Till Helen Comes, along with another one of her books, Doll in the Garden. I became totally engrossed in the world of books, and quickly stopped going outside or even trying to play games like normal children. This may be the roots of my social awkwardness, but that is far from the point.
The point is, I quickly become delusional when I read anything.
For instance, I just read If There Be Thorns by V.C. Andrews, which is the third book in the Dollanganger series, and I ended up thinking that I was Bart. He's the angry, awkward, socially retarded kid, which isn't that much of a stretch for me, but still. I found myself thinking that my mother and father were brother and sister, and thought that I was a religious zealot and also an old man named Malcolm, and even developed a little bit of a limp. And I started talking like him. A lot. I was like "Want out of this car mom. Hate stuffy car rides. Let me out." And my mom was all "Don't talk like a five year old, go to sleep if you're bored, and I was all "Okay."
This happens every time. This is not an isolated incident. I have also thought I was Charlie, from Perks of Being a Wallflower; Darren, from The Vampire's Assistant; Claire, from What Happened to Lani Garver, and so on through just about every book I've ever read. This lasts anywhere from a few days to a week, depending on how long it takes me to read it.
I'm sure this happens to other people too. Haven't you ever gotten so lost in a book and you get so close to the characters that you think you are the characters? Well, there you go. It isn't hard to get totally caught up in a good book.
On another note, I just got a tablet for my birthday and the first thing I did with it was draw stick figures. Way to go, me.
And, I'm still not very good at spelling. Thank God for SpellCheck.
When I was younger, reading was a bit of an abstract concept for me. I looked at the alphabet like an archeologist trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. I. Didn't. Get it. Much like how I couldn't understand analog clocks and why I had to learn how to read them when we had digital clocks, but that is another story.
So when I was five, and the time came for learning how to arrange letters into semi-intelligible words, I was like "Fuck that, I'm playing in the sandbox." Sadly, this was not an option. So I hid behind the toy chest, and in the closet. When that failed, I cried until the teacher let me go to the nurse, where I stayed until my parents came to pick me up. Feeling triumphant, I watched as the other kids learned to spell things like "cat" and "ball" and "tree". I felt like a ninja. I had tricked my teacher and now I would never have to learn spelling or reading ever! I won!
Little did I know, that when Monday came 'round again, I would have to deal with reading all over again.
I pretended to be sick.
I'm not sure how I actually convinced my mom that I was ill, but whatever I did, it worked.And then I actually became sick. With strep throat. God truly a just and cruel God.
Several days later, I came back to kindergarten when the other kids were moving on in their studies and were getting books read to them. I was pissed. I was all like "But the OTHER KIDS aren't writing anymore! I don't want to understand the alphabet! Fuck you teacher!" Only I didn't actually say "fuck you teacher". I think. I also didn't seem to understand the concept of make-up work yet.So, my teacher just sat with me in the back of the classroom, showing me how letters were like friends and they all wanted to be joined together into cliques called "words". I was skeptical, like I thought the teacher was just fucking with me and it was all a huge joke. I grew resentful of words and reading, and only got down the very basics to placate my teacher and I could go outside and play Titanic with my friends. Even though I hadn't actually seen Titanic. I knew it involved a sinking boat and a girl named 'Rose', or something. I was always the poor guy that drew her naked. The jungle gym was the boat.
And then came first grade, when we were introduced spelling tests. I think. I remember having to spell them, "them" being words. I really wanted to be smart. I wanted to be the first kid to raise their hand, so I could feel better than the other kids. Never mind that I didn't even know how to spell 'robin', I was the smartest kid in the class. No one was going to tell me otherwise.
(On the note of first grade, I think I should mention that I didn't identify well with girls. I played with boys and we pretended to be archeologists and would dig up cat paw prints in the mud and would pretend that they were dinosaur tracks. I was also what people would call an affectionate child, so I gave a lot of hugs. This translated into my teacher once telling my parents that I was "very friendly, especially with boys" (read as: "she is a whore and you should get her to a psychiatrist before she starts giving hand-jobs to feed her heroin addiction"). Thanks, Mrs. Patterson.)
(I also feel it is pertinent to tell you that my school didn't have any walls. Let me repeat that: NO WALLS. There were book cases and black boards separating the classrooms. "Classrooms" being a general term. When I went to a school that DID have walls, I was flabbergasted. It was like I was an alien learning to interact with people and telling teachers that my teacher needed to borrow a marker without just yelling.)
Anyway, I just trailed behind the other kids, never quite getting the hang of it, and not being able to read anything over the kindergarten level.
Until second grade.
It was then that I got tired of being made fun of because I couldn't spell or read in front of the class. This only got worse when we were supposed to draw scary pictures for Halloween, and I drew a vampire ghost which also seemed to be very sympathetic to bats. I meant to illustrate this by drawing a dying bat in her hand, complete with blood splattered everywhere, and a speech bubble from the vampire ghost saying "proo baft". My teacher wouldn't even put it on the black board (mostly because there was fucking blood everywhere, but I also think it was because she was so ashamed of my spelling).
I'd had enough, goddamnit. I was going to prove to them that I wasn't brain damaged, dyslexic, or just plain stupid. I was going to be the greatest reader and speller in the whole wide class, and no one would impede my ultimate goal of becoming the god of reading.
That's when I started going to my school's library. I wasn't going to become a master of the literary arts just by staring at words until they started to make sense.The first book I read of my own free will was some book about a kid that picked blueberries. It was on a third grade level, and after reading through it a few times, I felt a false sense of accomplishment- like I had just discovered the cure for bird flu.
And that's when I vowed to the world that I would read and read and read until I was the best at anything involving words. What I especially liked reading were gems such as Junie B. Jones and any horror story I could get my hands off. My favorite book ever until I was about twelve was a book by Mary Downing Hahn called Wait Till Helen Comes, along with another one of her books, Doll in the Garden. I became totally engrossed in the world of books, and quickly stopped going outside or even trying to play games like normal children. This may be the roots of my social awkwardness, but that is far from the point.The point is, I quickly become delusional when I read anything.
For instance, I just read If There Be Thorns by V.C. Andrews, which is the third book in the Dollanganger series, and I ended up thinking that I was Bart. He's the angry, awkward, socially retarded kid, which isn't that much of a stretch for me, but still. I found myself thinking that my mother and father were brother and sister, and thought that I was a religious zealot and also an old man named Malcolm, and even developed a little bit of a limp. And I started talking like him. A lot. I was like "Want out of this car mom. Hate stuffy car rides. Let me out." And my mom was all "Don't talk like a five year old, go to sleep if you're bored, and I was all "Okay."
This happens every time. This is not an isolated incident. I have also thought I was Charlie, from Perks of Being a Wallflower; Darren, from The Vampire's Assistant; Claire, from What Happened to Lani Garver, and so on through just about every book I've ever read. This lasts anywhere from a few days to a week, depending on how long it takes me to read it.I'm sure this happens to other people too. Haven't you ever gotten so lost in a book and you get so close to the characters that you think you are the characters? Well, there you go. It isn't hard to get totally caught up in a good book.
On another note, I just got a tablet for my birthday and the first thing I did with it was draw stick figures. Way to go, me.
And, I'm still not very good at spelling. Thank God for SpellCheck.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Halloween and everything in between
Last night I went to see Evil Dead: The Musical with my dad, my sister, and my brother-in-law. I've never seen the actual movies, but, from the reviews I've heard, they are completely ridiculous. I thought "Why would I want to see a bad movie? I could watch Freddy vs. Jason again if I ever felt the need to see a total fail at horror movies."
But no. This was much greater than I ever imagined. There was tree rape, murder, zombies, chainsaws, foul language, inappropriate sexual innuendo, and singing. Oh my god the singing. I wish they had had soundtracks, because I totally would have bought one. Instead I got a shirt that says "Look who's evil now!"
They had a slash zone, you guys. People got water thrown at them, and fake blood, and tree jizz.
Among other various acts of debauchery, last night I realized that the best time and place to go on a murder spree would be at a haunted house or woods during or around Halloween. No one would think twice about the chainsaw sounds and would just think all the mutilated corpses were really good effects, and if you ran away covered in blood they would just think it was a really good costume.
Not that I plan on going on a murder spree, but you always have to have these plans, just in case.
I've always done this, thinking about how I would get rid of a dead body, figuring out ways to not get caught. My sister even told me that people in Russia, during the winter, will stumble out of bars drunk and will fall into the snow, and in the morning their bodies will be covered by it and they won't be found until spring. Which immediately made me think "Wow, if I was a vampire, I would move to Russia since no one would be able to tell they were drained of their blood."
I don't know if everyone does it, but I assume they do. I mean, haven't you ever looked at lake or a piece of think brush and thought "That would be a good place to hide a body."
It might just be the horror movies I've been addicted to since I was eight, or the creepypasta I read almost every single day, but I think it's always good to be prepared.
Speaking of being prepared, I am turning 18 in eleven days, and I am like the opposite of prepared. I'm going to actually be an adult. Are you ready world? I sure am not.
But no. This was much greater than I ever imagined. There was tree rape, murder, zombies, chainsaws, foul language, inappropriate sexual innuendo, and singing. Oh my god the singing. I wish they had had soundtracks, because I totally would have bought one. Instead I got a shirt that says "Look who's evil now!"
They had a slash zone, you guys. People got water thrown at them, and fake blood, and tree jizz.
Among other various acts of debauchery, last night I realized that the best time and place to go on a murder spree would be at a haunted house or woods during or around Halloween. No one would think twice about the chainsaw sounds and would just think all the mutilated corpses were really good effects, and if you ran away covered in blood they would just think it was a really good costume.
Not that I plan on going on a murder spree, but you always have to have these plans, just in case.
I've always done this, thinking about how I would get rid of a dead body, figuring out ways to not get caught. My sister even told me that people in Russia, during the winter, will stumble out of bars drunk and will fall into the snow, and in the morning their bodies will be covered by it and they won't be found until spring. Which immediately made me think "Wow, if I was a vampire, I would move to Russia since no one would be able to tell they were drained of their blood."
I don't know if everyone does it, but I assume they do. I mean, haven't you ever looked at lake or a piece of think brush and thought "That would be a good place to hide a body."
It might just be the horror movies I've been addicted to since I was eight, or the creepypasta I read almost every single day, but I think it's always good to be prepared.
Speaking of being prepared, I am turning 18 in eleven days, and I am like the opposite of prepared. I'm going to actually be an adult. Are you ready world? I sure am not.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
And here, a comic
About what can happen when you don't sleep or eat very much
The actual conversation was longer, but it was very similar to this.
No, the water didn't actually talk, but I made it talk. It's fun to do.
That's a pretty huge glass of water, isn't it?
The actual conversation was longer, but it was very similar to this.
No, the water didn't actually talk, but I made it talk. It's fun to do.
That's a pretty huge glass of water, isn't it?
Friday, September 17, 2010
GUYS GUYS GUYS
I CAN FOLLOW MY OWN BLOG AND IT DIDN'T RIP A HOLE IN THE SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM.
YAAAAAAY
But I can't figure out how to unfollow it.
I mean, even I can admit that this is garbage.
YAAAAAAY
But I can't figure out how to unfollow it.
I mean, even I can admit that this is garbage.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Synopsis of your typical teenager
This is a list of what all teenagers do, whether they admit to it or not.
Okay, not all teenagers, BUT TEENAGERS WHO KNOW HOW TO LIVE IT UP BECAUSE SUPPOSEDLY THESE ARE THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES!!!
Oh, and this is not something you want your parents to read because they will probably ground you because this "article" about things teenagers do will confirm their suspicions of your bad behavior and you will never binge drink or get an abortion ever again.
1. Binge drinking. Teenagers binge drink until they think they're sober, and then drink some more because they want to be drunk. Sometimes they die from alcohol poisoning, or something. I heard once, from a semi-reliable source and I don't remember what it was but I remember thinking 'You sound semi-reliable so I'll listen to you!' but they said that a hang-over is actually dehydration, so if you drink a lot of water it can help your hang over but I have never actually been hung over so I don't know. I am not a real teenager so pbbt. That's the sound of a raspberry. Raspberry sounds do not translate well into text.
2. They get pregnant and have abortions. That's right, even the boy ones. I know what you're all up to in your hidey-holes! You can fool your parents into thinking you're going to bible camp, but I know the truth! "Falls Creek", more like "Falls on a dick and gets pregnant!"
3. Go to concerts, where they binge drink and get pregnant at the same time. But it is irresponsible to have an abortion at a concert. Everyone in the mosh pit is dancing, even the abortionist. So your vagina is in mortal peril if you're getting an abortion at the concert. I mean, all those tubes and stuff up in there, you could tear something. Don't do it man. Stop thinking about it, you'll have nightmares!!!!
4. Teenagers do drugs. Lots of them. I think it's to replace all of the love they aren't getting from their parents because they have a little brother or sister and now that little brother or sister is learning how to play the violin and they're like a savant or something which would also mean they're retarded so they also need more attention anyway, or maybe they're a child genius. So teenagers have to fill the hole in their hearts with cocaine or crystal meth or PCP. So then they'll get an intervention and their parents have to pay attention to them and they can be all like "YOU NEVER LOVED ME MOM!!!"
5. Teenagers angst. A lot. And they usually don't have anything to angst about. They just do. It doesn't make any sense, but all teenagers do it, even me. We just angst and angst about things that don't matter, even mattresses. For instance: "My mattress has a huge dent in it where I sleep every night because it is old and I am fat. Oh jeez, I am fat! Look at my face, it's all pudgy and ugly! I'm so unattractive! No one loves me!" And that's what all teenagers do. Even you. I think even adults do it sometimes. People just like to complain I guess because if we were happy wouldn't you be so bored? Humans thrive on conflict!!
6. Teenagers work at the mini-mart, usually to finance their drug and drinking problems, but also sometimes to get that second abortion because they went to a party last night and they'd just gotten out of a bad relationship and one of their exes was there and they were feeling vulnerable so they told themselves "Okay, but only to third base" but they ended up going all the way but they didn't have any rubbers but they were too drunk to care and today they're really hung over because they didn't drink a lot of water and they're grumpy and hate their customers but they have to do this or they can never afford their abortion! And also their parents are Catholic.
And that is all the stuff teenagers do. The end.
Okay, not all teenagers, BUT TEENAGERS WHO KNOW HOW TO LIVE IT UP BECAUSE SUPPOSEDLY THESE ARE THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES!!!
Oh, and this is not something you want your parents to read because they will probably ground you because this "article" about things teenagers do will confirm their suspicions of your bad behavior and you will never binge drink or get an abortion ever again.
1. Binge drinking. Teenagers binge drink until they think they're sober, and then drink some more because they want to be drunk. Sometimes they die from alcohol poisoning, or something. I heard once, from a semi-reliable source and I don't remember what it was but I remember thinking 'You sound semi-reliable so I'll listen to you!' but they said that a hang-over is actually dehydration, so if you drink a lot of water it can help your hang over but I have never actually been hung over so I don't know. I am not a real teenager so pbbt. That's the sound of a raspberry. Raspberry sounds do not translate well into text.
2. They get pregnant and have abortions. That's right, even the boy ones. I know what you're all up to in your hidey-holes! You can fool your parents into thinking you're going to bible camp, but I know the truth! "Falls Creek", more like "Falls on a dick and gets pregnant!"
3. Go to concerts, where they binge drink and get pregnant at the same time. But it is irresponsible to have an abortion at a concert. Everyone in the mosh pit is dancing, even the abortionist. So your vagina is in mortal peril if you're getting an abortion at the concert. I mean, all those tubes and stuff up in there, you could tear something. Don't do it man. Stop thinking about it, you'll have nightmares!!!!
4. Teenagers do drugs. Lots of them. I think it's to replace all of the love they aren't getting from their parents because they have a little brother or sister and now that little brother or sister is learning how to play the violin and they're like a savant or something which would also mean they're retarded so they also need more attention anyway, or maybe they're a child genius. So teenagers have to fill the hole in their hearts with cocaine or crystal meth or PCP. So then they'll get an intervention and their parents have to pay attention to them and they can be all like "YOU NEVER LOVED ME MOM!!!"
5. Teenagers angst. A lot. And they usually don't have anything to angst about. They just do. It doesn't make any sense, but all teenagers do it, even me. We just angst and angst about things that don't matter, even mattresses. For instance: "My mattress has a huge dent in it where I sleep every night because it is old and I am fat. Oh jeez, I am fat! Look at my face, it's all pudgy and ugly! I'm so unattractive! No one loves me!" And that's what all teenagers do. Even you. I think even adults do it sometimes. People just like to complain I guess because if we were happy wouldn't you be so bored? Humans thrive on conflict!!
6. Teenagers work at the mini-mart, usually to finance their drug and drinking problems, but also sometimes to get that second abortion because they went to a party last night and they'd just gotten out of a bad relationship and one of their exes was there and they were feeling vulnerable so they told themselves "Okay, but only to third base" but they ended up going all the way but they didn't have any rubbers but they were too drunk to care and today they're really hung over because they didn't drink a lot of water and they're grumpy and hate their customers but they have to do this or they can never afford their abortion! And also their parents are Catholic.
And that is all the stuff teenagers do. The end.
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