Saturday, June 26, 2010


Things that are horrible:

Mowing lawns for five hours
The smell of rotting grain
The smell of dead mice in crude oil
The heat of the Summer sun
When your left speaker won't work
When you want to write a story, but have no ideas
When you want to know what someone looks like, but they have no pictures on Facebook
When things are too loud
When there's no cake left
When you can't move the trampoline on your own
Moving week-old dead gophers out of your mowing path
When your iPod screen is really scratched up
When your hair is too long but you can't do anything about it
When your T.V. has been broken for a week and a half
Chapped lips
When your Bionicle just won't go together the way you want it to
Back pain
When you accidentally plunge your hand into an unknown wet substance
When you want to watch The Matrix, but your TV IS BROKEN.
Dry skin
Dr. Horrible
When there's empty pop cans all around you, but there's no full ones left
Smelly garbage
When people criticize you for walking slow
When your Popsicle breaks in half... the wrong way
When there's nowhere to throw your garbage
When you take a shower, then find out you have to mow lawns for five hours
When someone you really, REALLY dislike wants to come over to your house
When your Summer is so busy, you have almost no time to yourself
And when your favorite manga won't update!

It's just been one of those days...

Thursday, June 17, 2010


Oh my goodness E3. Nintendo is absolutely dominating. What with the new Wii exclusives and all the crazy announcements for the 3DS, they are just blowing my mind. Head to to get all the facts. If you care.

Anyways, so there's this girl who's family is good friends with my family and she's been so obviously flirting with me... she knows I have a girlfriend, and she knows I have a long distance relationship going on, and I think she's gonna try and take advantage of that.
To be fair, I have kind of been "egging her on" per se, but it's really quite funny, to say the least.

(P.S. Jaymi, if you somehow manage to read this, it's, uh... not you, OK?)

Tuesday, June 15, 2010


I have a question. Why does the media portray sports and athletics as the standpoint of being (un)successful? I mean, intelligence will, in fact, 95% of the time get you farther than athletics ever will. I understand that there are exceptions, but seriously. Get with it, guys.

So Chris has a new car, because his old one exploded. (No, it didn't literally explode) Anyways, he wants a name for it. The last one was Lightning, and it suited it perfectly. I'm thinking Jana, but that's just one name. I kinda like the cheesiness of "Hero"... Hmm... I'm gonna have to keep thinking of these... Hah, "Lolita." We could shorten it to "Loli" or "Lita" and I think that would be funny.

So I've been following Dragonball Kai. Yeah, I know I'm an otaku, but I don't care. It's a life I live, and I love it. Anyways, Dragonball is awesome. What with the fighting, and the sort of plot... It's kinda like retro goodness.

Speaking of retro goodness, EPIC MICKEY! And LOZ: Skyward Sword!

Saturday, June 12, 2010


Hey! Maya's home! Alright! Only thirty-some more days, now. I think I'll live.

Well, there goes my train of thought, as always.
So this manga, Gantz, is really freaking crazy. There's this guy, and he's all like "Black ball room, I remember!" And then this other guy's all like "Cannot tell him it's real, or my head will explode." And then he's all like, "I will kill everyone ever to get back into Gantz's room! Muahaha! Your girlfriend? DEAD! That psychic dude and his apprentice? DEAD! Every single pedestrian? DEAD!" It's really quite upsetting. All I can think is "Why?"

Anyways, yeah, so my thoughts are gone.

I need to do something...

Friday, June 11, 2010

Success Two

A while back, I put a post that was titled "Success."
I cannot remember what it was about, so this is a second one... still not sure what it's about, yet.

Once again, I'm in French class. It's an inspirational place to write, I guess. Also, there's nothing better to do in here but watch Youtube and blog.

So for the past ten minutes, I've been watching this Super Mario 64 speedrun. It's freaking incredible. Like, wow.
Screw French, right?

So I learned a few things about some people I never had any idea about before, and I kinda feel more thankful and humble now. It's a good feeling.

If I were to make another story, what should it be about? Or if I were to continue my old story, that would work, too.

Well, class is ending, sorry this was such an awful post.

Friday, June 4, 2010

My Story I Started

I mentioned this in the previous blog post. Unfortunately, at this point, I don't know where to take it. Any suggestions would be helpful.

There once was a man. This man was completely normal by most standards. He had an office job, he was moderately fit, and had an average face to go along with his frame. He wasn’t overly social, but he still had a few friends to go to the pub with. He had a wife, but no children. Now, when I say he was normal by most standards, I mean that there was one major abnormality about this man. He was immortal, but he didn’t know it. Not that there was any way he could have known it; he had had no near-death-experiences, nor any experiences that should have left him face-down in a pool of blood.

To be fair, he had only stopped aging in appearance a few years back – at the prime age of twenty-one. Another funny thing about his immortality was that it had a mind of its own – it was kind of like a very intelligent parasite that had infected him – just a few years ago. Through these years, his parasite had learned his language. This is unfortunate, because, at this point you know that I, the narrator, speak English. This man was German, and therefore, so was his immortality. Now, this could very well pose as a problem for you, the reader, as you likely do not speak German. I, however, the third-person omniscient narrator, so I’m going to leave it up to you to decide for yourself what it is that is being said.

This man had another abnormality that was more apparent to the general public, and that was that he had no name. There was a blank space on his birth certificate. He went by whatever people called him, and whenever a name was said, he’d turn his head politely to be certain someone wasn’t speaking to him. His wife’s last name was Meyer, so that was often what he went by around the office.

Perfect, now that the exposition is out of the way, let’s begin with the plot. It all begins on an average day in this man’s hometown in Germany. Average being that the wind was blowing and the sky was gray and there was a light drizzle on the heads of the various people lazily and busily and seemingly randomly wandering the streets, and darting in and out of different, gloomy looking buildings. That’s how it would look from any normal person’s perspective, anyways. Each of these individuals had a story – sure, some were more interesting than others, and some were more sorrowing, but each person was as self-centered as the last, only thinking about what was happening in their lives, and not about the other, less fortunate people in the world. That is why they deserved what is soon to happen.

Speaking of people, one of these seemingly dreary, droopy souls was our protagonist. He really wasn’t dreary, though. He had had a productive day, and got a lot done. He was feeling optimistic. He was just finished his day at the office. It was a Friday, so he was in his casual wear – a gray jacket with a dark blue undershirt and dark, well-fitting jeans. You may think this is an unimportant detail, and, well, to say the least, it is. But it’s the little things that give a story its length, no? Anyways, back to the story. He let out a German-flavored sigh as he left his building. He was hoping it would at least stop raining today – he was wearing his favorite jacket, and they had said it had only been a twenty percent chance of rain today. He muttered something German as he set off on his way home. He considered taking a taxi, but soon remembered his wife’s aunt had been staying at their house for while… and she didn’t seem to be leaving. She had promised a four-day stay, but had been there for eight, so far. He let out another sigh, and wondered how long this would go on for, and maybe that it wasn’t so good to be optimistic about things – it only ends up crushing you when things don’t work out.

Just then, our protagonist passed a young couple who were holding hands. He scoffed at them, obviously jealous that his relationship had passed the “cute” stage where he could do that kind of stuff. He was married with his wife at 18, so their relationship had become a real marriage, and not so much a romance anymore. As he was passing them, he watched their feet step in sync (it was envy, obviously that made him do this) – left, right, left, right – it was entrancing. And then, just as he had to force himself to turn around in order to continue watching their feet, they laughed together, and he watched them not only step in sync, but suddenly, they stopped in sync. They didn’t just stop walking and stood there, but it was as if they had both just… stopped, mid-step.

He stood and stared for a moment, not quite sure what had happened. Then, out of nowhere, the girl’s tender-looking knees crumpled. Her torso and neck followed in a similar fashion. Then, her partner collapsed as well, directly on top of her. Our protagonist (let’s call him Meyer from now on) darted towards the crumpled heap of people, ignoring the new crashing sounds around him. Both partners were face down, so he first pulled the man and his newly bloody head off the woman. He turned her over delicately, not wanting to harm her even more. Her face had a few rogue streams of blood trickling slowly down from her forehead, but when Meyer saw her face, he gasped. No, he wasn’t skittish or afraid of blood, but it was the expression on her face. It wasn’t of pain, fear, anger, or even peace. She had a dumb expression plastered on her face – her mouth open, teeth showing, and her eyes were half-shut, as if she had been laughing. Which she was, just before this incident. He looked for a pulse, but none was found. He glanced at her boyfriend. His face was clean, and he also had the “laughing” expression on his face.

Shocked, Meyer dropped him, and stood to face the world around him. Every vehicle currently on the street had run into another, or into a building. There were no screams or shouting to be heard. Not even the patter of footsteps of other people. Everyone in eyesight had just stopped working. They were all… dead. Everyone. Meyer looked at the dented bumpers of the vehicles, and at a lonely cyclist who had somehow managed to get his head crammed in the spokes of his bicycle.

Meyer had a certain feeling about him, crawling around in every fiber of his being. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly. It wasn’t loneliness, no… nor was it fear. He didn’t really feel uncomfortable, either. He wasn’t sad, or angry. The only way to describe it was that it was nearly the same as the feeling of guilt – you know how it is, that feeling that bores itself into the pit of your stomach. Then, the feeling moved itself upwards. To the top of his chest, his throat, until finally, he lurched, and ultimately vomited. “Again, again, again!” His body shrieked at him. And he did, until there was nothing left in him. He kneeled on the sidewalk, his head reeling, and feeling worse than he had for years.

Suddenly, a thought popped itself into his head. He needed to go home, and see his wife one last time. Maybe, if he was lucky, he thought, she might still be alive. And if not, he would say a proper goodbye, and lay down some flowers. He walked solemnly, alone. He passed countless numbers of people who were laying there in all different arrays of positions. Nearing the end, he casually ignored them, not wanting to upset the gods. He had always lived by the principle “respect for the dead” and didn’t intend to dismiss his beliefs now.

As he began to approach his home, a sinking feeling erupted itself in his stomach. I’m sure we can all relate to this feeling, and I’m sure that we also all know what the cause of this feeling was. He saw something on the fence that surrounded his yard, and instinctively tilted his head to the side to better observe this “thing”. As he kept moving forward, the thing on the fence slowly revealed itself to him. It was his wife’s aunt, hunched over the fence, making her seem even more lethargic and pathetic than she already was. Meyer smiled at the thought of her finally being out of his life and being eternally out of his home, but the smile was quickly torn away from his face when he realized how taboo it was to be happy because of someone’s eternal demise.

So Meyer shuffled around the carcass of the woman he probably hated the most in the world, and found his way inside his house. Though he knew she would be dead, he really didn’t want to believe it. He had convinced himself on the way that everything would be okay, that it was probably just another realistic dream. He checked the living room; the TV was left on, and he got a little upset at the fact that it was wasting electricity, but the thought soon was overridden as he remembered his original objective. He checked the kitchen; nothing out of the ordinary. This brought him to the bedroom. He found his wife lying on the floor next to the bed, her head propped up against the dresser.

Another Social Class

Today, I am supposed to be doing online work for a newsletter worksheet type thing. I'll just copy it off Ethan; I don't care.

Bendos, who obviously won't be doing his work either is stumbling. And he skips over all the good things. It makes me mad. He's addicted.

Last night, I had a dream that I went to BlizzCon, and then I won a draw of theirs. They gave me every product they had ever made, and they also let me do a beta test of WoW for the PS3. I was ECSTATIC. It's too bad it wasn't real...

I really like that song. You may have it in your head now.

Why are my posts always so random and scattered?! I always have something to write, but when I reach, I always just... forget, you know?

So somebody (Morgan, I'm guessing) was playing "N" for a while with the sound blasting away. Very humorous, and I called out "Somebody's playing N..." It was a good time.

I have super chapped lips, and lost my hoodie. My life is not going well, what with this heavy emotional and physical pain. Screw you, Three Days' Grace - I'd rather feel nothing at all than pain. No matter how much you sing it.

So in computers class, I've been taking pictures of random things here and there. A few of them actually turned out kinda artsy. Here's one that's not bad.

It's not too bad.

I should write a story. I'm gonna get on that. I wrote a short beginning to one a while ago. It was about an immortal man in a world where everyone was dead. I could post that...