Black Friday

Oh, I'll be there. I'll be that frizzy haired girl shoving past you with an armful of DVDs. Am I Christmas shopping? Oh, hell no. Am I shopping for myself? Most likely.

P.S. That crazy fuck actually act the cat because Miley Cyrus didn't go back on Twitter.

P.P.S. Speaking of...Happy Thanksgiving.

Songs

I found this old list saved in my Documents on my computer and decided to clean it up and post it. It is basically a list of my favorite songs in no particular order. Basically, if I was listening to a radio station and any of these songs came on it would totally make my day. And yes, I would be the big-haired girl dancing and singing equally horrendously in the car next to you. Deal with it.

1. Stay--I prefer Franki Valli and the Four Seasons version, but really, I love this song. I don't care who sings it as long as they don't fuck with the beat.
2. Take it on the Run--REO Speedwagon
3. Carry on my Wayward Son--Kansas
4. More Than a Feeling--Boston
5. Put Your Head on my Shoulder--Paul Anka (my Nana used to sing this song to me and my siblings when we were little.)
6. Don't Stop Believing--Journey (Isn't this everyone's favorite song?)
7. Any Way You Want It--Journey
8. Burnin For You--Blue Oyster Cult
9. Snow (Hey Oh)--Red Hot Chili Peppers
10. Scar Tissue--Red Hot Chili Peppers
11. Suck My Kiss--Red Hot Chili Peppers
12. Fall at Your Feet--Crowded House
13. Homeward Bound--Paul Simon
14. Don't Fear the Reaper--Blue Oyster Cult (You'll recognize the beat from the "More Cowbell" SNL skit with Christopher Walken.)
I think I shall continue to update this.

Daily

Kenya

I don't know why I was thinking about this, but I remembered an instance when I was waitressing at the retirement home. There was this one elderly lady who had been there almost as long as I had, which is about three and a half years. She always says my name wrong, and I have never had the heart to correct her. My name is Kayla, but she called my Kaylee, Kaylin, Katelyn, etc. However, this isn't the point of the story.
Again, I'm not sure why I was thinking of this, but I remember one night I was cleaning up and I hear, "Excuse me! Kenya!"
And without even missing a beat I turned back to her and said, "Yes?"
I answered her question and then turned to another girl I worked with and said, "Apparently I'll just answer to anything now."

My official hero

We have all thought about doing this. We have all wanted to do this. But this kid actually went ahead and did it!!! This kid is my absolute hero. Hands down.
I did something like this once, but by mistake. We got our quiz and it said: Has no _____, ______ or _____. When it came time to fill it in, it ended up saying: Has no length, width or thickness. I, without really realizing it, jotted down, "That's what she said." right beside it. Didn't think much of it until we had to hand them in. When my papers were returned my teacher had circled it with a question mark. I don't know if I was supposed to go speak with her about it, and perhaps introduce her to the amazingness that is The Office, but I let it go, she let it go.
This, however, was a deliberate act of teen angst awesomeness. When I'm a teacher, and if I ever get anything like this, I'll make the kid come see me and then high five him. I'll keep it, take it home and frame it as one of the most amazing things I will ever see as a teacher...I'm now kind of excited to be a teacher as opposed to meh.

PS: If anyone was interested, the answer is about 18.2. But 'suck my dick, fag' works, too.
PPS: I am so wondering what happened to that kid after he saw his teacher. Shit like this will keep me up at nights. He's got bigger balls than I did.

Julian Beever

This dude's name is Julian Beever, and he is probably the most awesome person on the planet. I can't even sketch a straight line, and this guy can creat magic with some chalk and a sidewalk. Seriously, I am a miserable bastard and critisize everything, but this is amazing.

I need a hobby

We have a tiny little ant problem in our kitchen. Today, I got so angry and crazed about it, I killed about fifteen or so ants and let one live with the request that he "go, and tell the others what he has seen!"

Celebrity Crush of the Day

Hello, lover.

Seriously, this is seriously the sexiest man on Earth.

Not only did he play Severus Snape in Harry Potter (who is my favorite HP character), but he's going to be in the new Tim Burton Alice in Wonderland movie.

Here are two clips to help you get a better sense:

This is from Family Guy:

This is some random youtube clip:

I have no idea what the hell he's talking about...but me loves it.

It is times like these that I breathe a sigh of relief because I am not some huge freak. There are other people who like him so much they make fan videos dedicated to his voice.

I'll be there

My friends somewhat introduced me to this band senior year. I'm not going to try and describe/name them because I'm just going to get yelled at by said friends. Well, this is my favorite song by them. This is what I want my first dance with my husband to be at my wedding when (or if) I get married. Just have to overcome that little thing called ZERO SELF-CONFIDENCE in order to get in the right direction of marriage.

Enjoy!

Daily

This dog is giving off serious "HELP ME" eyes. I can only assume he's either A) frightened of a life with these people, or B) he has just realized the burden being Canine Jesus is going to have on his life.

Oh dear God

If your first thought was, "Ok. It's a Snuggie. What's the big deal?" Then you, my friend, are an idiot. This is not a Snuggie. This is a Slanket.

I repeat: This is a SLANKET.

I didn't realize it was humanly possible to get even more ghetto than the Snuggie, but, as I waited in line at Ross, I found I was mistaken.

Doesn't that look comfy?

Well, think again. I happen to own a Snuggie. It was a gift from a friend.

What a Snuggie really is, is a thin piece of felt that sheds all over any black or dark clothing you may be wearing. You need to rest your back against something warm and comfy, otherwise your back and neck will freeze. It makes you kind of clammy and gross feeling. There is this extra fabric that just hangs over your neck and back like loose foreskin or something. It's really an icky experience all around. Not only that, but in order to be considered a UNIVERSAL SIZE they had to make it seven feet long. That means you should never run (unless from zombies) in a Snuggie/Slanket. You will trip and faceplant.

Fuck you Snuggie.

And a double fuck you to the Slanket.

Swear Word of the Day

Bitchtits.


Example:
"Did you clean your room?"
"Shut up, Bitchtits."

This is absolutely ridiculous

Seriously? This is getting out of hand. First of all, if you want to fuck a aluminum can, fine. Do as you please. I don't care. But if you actually have to add FANGS into the mix, then you, my friend, have a problem.

I like that there is a new texture named "Fang."

This is so odd to me.

Am I to believe that before this...can-vagina came out there were men who had their respective beej partners wearing fake vampire fangs to get them off? Officially, this is out of hand. I'm going to form a committee to stop shit like this from coming out.

Unbelievable.

Daily Dose

Again, I can't even correctly identify how much I love this picture. Look at the attitude. She knows she's awesome. I know she's awesome. I...I want her costume. There is a 20% Goodwill has something similar to this, and I intend to find it.

P.S. I saw it, I just chose to ignore it. Lest I take away from the amazingness of this photo.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, Katie!

Hope you're enjoying the most pointless birthday ever. Though, next year we'll be twenty...holy shit...

Mr. Body Massage

Fun Fact: When I was in eleventh grade we had to work with partners and exchange email addresses. I was sketched out by my partner and didn't want to give my actual email address. So, I had to make one up. On the spot. And act as though it were my actual email address. And what was the first thing that popped into my mind? mrbodymassage@yahoo.com AND IT WAS TAKEN. So, to whomever has/had this address I'm sorry you got loads of emails about Emily Dickenson.

You are welcome in advance

Daily

Two things I want to point out right away: 1) The look on the wolf's face. He looks like he is LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF THIS!! and 2) the father and children in the background who look horrified.

I want to point out that this picture is from pictureisunrelated.com. That in itself is a website invented for people exactly like me. When you look at the pictures and then meet me, you understand immediately. I'll give you a hint from what my friend said to me, "Only someone seriously fucked up would laugh at that." I laughed for twenty minutes straight.

For the very first time

I am somewhat really content with the way my blog looks. Golly, it seems like I talk about or change my layout at least once a week. However, the selection kind of sucks and I'm just really picky. I know how I want it to look, but can never get it to look so. However, I am really pleased with the way this turned out. Ah....

Yes, I want to change the actual website name of the blog. I will be doing that by next week so, hopefully if no one already has it, I want to change it to tuesdayevening.blogspot.com.

WARNING:

I WILL BE CHANGING THE NAME OF MY BLOG BY THIS TIME NEXT WEEK. I AM CHANGING IT TO TUESDAY EVENING.

IT MAY SEEM STUPID TO YOU, BUT HAS SPECIAL MEANING TO ME. IF FOR SOME REASON YOU ARE UNABLE TO FIND IT LATER EMAIL ME.

Swear Word of the Day

Fuck.

Really, this has to be my favorite word in the English language. It is one of the only words that one can use in a variety of different ways. 
For example, it can be used as a verb: "Don fucked Joan."

Or, it can be an action verb: "I really don't give a fuck."

An adjective: "That pizza was really fucking good."

Or, even a conjunction, "Kathy, well, fuck she's stupid."

It can be used in a maternal way: "Mother fucker."

Greetings: "How the fuck are you?"

Panic: "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Digust: "Ew. What the fuck is that?"

Lost: "Where the fuck are we?"

Direction: "Fuck off."

See? Isn't it such a lovely little word?

And, now, for a history lesson: The word 'fuck' comes from the late 1800s in England when prostitues were getting arrested for having sex with men for money. The arresting officer would arrest them For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Well, the officers got pretty sick and tired of writing that a million times a week, so prostitues then started getting arrested for fucking. And thus, we have a lovely little swear word.

An open letter

To the three smokers who stood outside until three o'clock this morning laughing, screaming, talking and basically being complete assholes I want to say and, truly, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: I hope you get ball cancer.

That is all.

Upcoming films I want to see:

1) The Boondock Saints II: All Saint's Day. (Are you fucking kidding me? I am so there. Do you even have to ask? And yes, Gooch, I'm going with you.)
2) The Men Who Stare At Goats. (They played Boston, More Than a Feeling in the trailer. Gotta represent, yo. It IS my ringtone.)
3) 2012. (Want to get prepared. Actually, maybe I won't see this...Don't even get me started on the whole, "World's gonna end in 2012 bullshit.")
4) Pirate Radio. (British people. That's all I need.)


What the...That's all I'm seeing through the end of the year? I knew my movie watching was going to peak after Inglorious Basterds! Damn it. I can already tell you I won't see number 2 and 4.
And no, I will absolutely not be going to see New Moon. The only way you could get me to go to that movie would be if you would agree on these three terms: 1) Go dressed from head to toe in Harry Potter gear. This includes, but is not limited to, "HARRY POTTER IS LOADS BETTER THAN TWILIGHT COULD EVER HOPE TO BE!!" shirts. 2) Join in with me as I loudly react to what happens on screen. Now, this could be anything from groaning, to flat out screaming, "STOP CRYING! STOP IT! YOU ARE SO FRIGGING...YOU SEE THAT CLIFF IN THE BACKGROUND? GO JUMP OFF OF IT, BUT THIS TIME, DON'T MISS THE ROCKS!" and, finally, 3) Protect me. Twihards are probably flat-chested girls, but a hundred of them will put a dent in me.

Swear Word of the Day

Clusterfuck.


Example:
"After losing his job, his girlfriend and his dog, and then getting arrested, Jimmy was going through a clusterfuck of emotions."

New Moon

On Friday I walked into New Moon and immediately had a small, yellow piece of paper in my face. Then, someone said, "We're having a New Moon release party here, just so you know." And then the paper stayed in front of my face as I just stared back at the person without blinking. Finally, he seemed a little freaked out and handed it over to my friend, giving her a weird look as though to say, "Why did you let Chubs off her leash?" My friend shrugged.

Then, today, at BAM there is a shrine to Twilight. A BLOODY* FUCKING SHRINE!!! Everytime I pass it I end up hissing. Which in turn gets me weird looks. Seriously, another whole month of this? I don't think so. I'm gonna lose my shizz.


(*I've been listening to The Ricky Gervais show podcasts I downloaded off of Itunes. I'm probably going to start blurting out random British phrases. Can't help it.)

Dream

I had a dream last night that I won a hundred and eighty-nine million dollars from the lottery and it snowed (I live in Florida). I woke up and neither happened. I have never been more depressed.

Swear Word of the Day

Fucktard.


Example:
You: "Hey, she just pre-ordered a ticket to see New Moon."
Me: "What a fucktard."

Swear Word of the Day

Buttmoss


Example:
"Dude, this pizza tastes like buttmoss."

Swear Word of the Day

Douche.


I'll use it in a sentence.
You: "Look at the kid over there."
Me:  "What a douche."

Swear Word of the Day

Thundercunt.


For example: "That girl over there is a thundercunt."


(A very special thanks to Gooch Goodman for introducing me to this word. Without it I'd think I'd be less of a person.)

Shadows

Earlier this evening I opened my door and was immediately greeted by my shadow. It scared the hell out of me. My honest first reaction was to yelp and stumble backwards, and that's when I realized that I, like a groundhog, sometimes get scared of my shadow. It reminded me of two similar events which are two of my favorite memories of being alive.

1) My friend and I had just gone to see a movie. It wasn't a scary movie, in fact, if I am correct, it was Kung Fu Panda. However, we had to park in the back of the movie theater near the trailer park. I call this area Stab Alley, because there are broken bottles and used needles littering the ground. As we got into the movie, the sun was just setting, so we didn't really think anything of parking in the back. However, after the movie let out, and we were walking back towards her car, we started to notice how dark and creepy it had gotten. I get creeped out easily, and as we were walking back to the car I kept thinking that someone was following us. My friend did not really notice anything until I said, "Doesn't it feel like someone is following us?" She agreed and we kept walking. I could see her car when I glanced over my shoulder and saw what I thought was someone right behind us. I lost my head completely and screamed, "RUN!! RUN!!" My friend and I started screaming and we ran towards her car and got in. It wasn't until the doors were locked that my friend turned to me and said, "What the hell was that?" I replied, "I thought I saw someone...but now I'm thinking it's just my shadow." She was not amused.

2) Another story that doesn't really relate all that much except to tie in with the getting startled part of this blog post is a story that happened last year while I was still at school in Rhode Island. My roommate was at work and it was around nine-thirty at night. I have this habit of going on Wikipedia and getting trapped within there for hours if you let me. Bear with me because it is very important to the story. (Oh, you should also know my roommate has/had long black/brown hair.) OKay, so there was a commerical for the Uninvited on tv. I Wikipedia'd it to read what it is about and it had a link for the original Korean version of it. I read that as well. On that page was a link for Korean horror movies. (Here is a flow chart: The Uninvited---->Original Korean version---->Korean horror movies---->various Korean horror movies.) Well, I started getting freaked out. In fact, I kept thinking I was seeing a whisp of black hair out of the corner of my eye and decided it was time to stop reading about killer asian women. However, I couldn't calm myself down. I knew my roommate was getting home at about 10:15 and at 10:00 I went to the bathroom and, on the way back, I took out my phone and called her. This is our conversation:
Her: Hey. What's up?
Me: I freaked myself out.
Her: How?
Me: I kept reading Wikipedia entries about Korean horror movies.
Her: Oh for the love of...Why?
Me: I don't know. But I keep thinking I'm going to turn around and (punching in my key and turning the handle of my door) see an Asian woman (opens door) just standing in our dorm room--AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Why did I start screaming bloody murder? Because my roommate, with the long black/brown hair, was standing in the middle of my room. And yes, for a split second, she looked asian. She looked like a Korean woman who had come to kill me.
And no, not a SINGLE person on my floor came to see why I was screaming bloody murder. So, if there had been a asian murderess in my room, I would have been killed...or molested, depending on whether or not it was the Grudge Lady or not.

Why I love my friends

Their response to almost anything?

"What a horse humping, cock juggling thundercunt."

Bananas

The good news?
I found a Ring Pop in my desk drawer.

The bad news?
It's strawberry.

The ass kicker

I've been trying to write an American History paper for about a week now. I can't get into it. Why? Well, let's see. The topic is to define reform Darwinism (which is really just social Darwinism) and the Progressive reform movement (which is really just the reforms the Progressive movement made) and relate it to the successes and failures of the presidencies of both Roosevelt and Wilson. And...GO!

I have literally been staring at a blank Microsoft Word screen for the past three days. Finally, today, after much effort, I had a...(wait for it) BREAKTHROUGH. And then proceeded to write three pages worth of the shittiest writing I've ever done. So, now all I have to do is link the definitions to the successes and failures of Wilson and Roosevelt and I'm done...Oh, no, wait. I then have to get up on Wednesday and give a ten minute presentation. I seriously just want to go, "No one read this essay and no one cares. How about I showcase my ability to link any celebrity (and I mean ANY CELEBRITY) to another celebrity in under three minutes?"

A brief look into my mental and emtional breakdown via my Facebook updates:
Thursday, October 8th at 12:12 am:
Um...where the hell did those two hours go?
Internal monologue: "Holy shit. Is it really...What the hell...I guess I should go to bed...I could have sworn it was ten o'clock like ten seconds ago...Hmm..."

Thursday, October 8th at 1:33 pm:
3 papers to write and 3 practice tests to study for and take. If ever there was a time, it is now: FML.
Internal monologue: "Fuck my life. Fuck my miserable life. Mhmm...animal crackers. Fuck my life."

Thursday, October 8th at 4:14 pm
After four hours of procrastination (Did you know that buttons were invented in 2800 BC?!) I finally started my paper. Almost done and then ready to start another paper tomorrow and one on Saturday. Ugh. FML.
Internal monologue: "Seriously, I can not get over the buttons. Fuck this paper. I should be doing my paper on the history of buttons! BUTTONS!"

Friday, October 9th at 7:52 pm
Attempting to write my American History paper.
Internal monologue: "And by attempting I mean staring at a blank screen, crying, desperately hoping a reasonably presentable seven page paper pops up."

Friday, October 9th at 10:10 pm
*me silently weeping over my notes*

Friday, October 9th at 10:17 pm
It's been two hours and the Queen of Procrastination has written one whole paragraph. Damn it, YouTube!
Internal monologue: "Not gonna lie...Kind of worth it."

Saturday, October 10th at 1:00 pm
This paper is my Everest.
Internal monologue: "When I finish this paper it will be a miracle. So awesome will it be that I will surely be able to do anything. Like cure cancer. Or world hunger. Or fly. What? No. Not fly. You can't...YOU DUMB FUCKING BITCH. WRITE YOUR PAPER!"

Inglorious Basterds

I know this is insanely late. I know that the movie has been out for over a month. However, I received a comment today which prompted me to write this review. I completely forgot about it because I had so much to say, but couldn't figure out how to get it into words. So, I will try.

I am absolutely in love with the genius of Quentin Tarantino. I think he can craft a story like no one else around. You are garunteed three things with a Tarantino movie: Fantastic dialogue, action and a pretty bitchen story on its own. And for the love of God, you get all of those things with this movie.

Review:
The credits start and then, I prepare you in case you haven't seen it, brace your eyes a bit, because the next scene is an outdoor, daylight scene and your corneas will get singed. At least mine nearly were. Well, okay, anyways. The very first scene of the movie, which is broken down into five parts (in a totally Tarantino badass way), begins with a farmer being interrogated by Hans Landa. Hans Landa is played by Christoph Waltz, and oh my goodness is that man adorable. I know he is playing one of the most vile, morally reprehensible people on the planet, but I can't fight the uncontrollable urge to scoop him up and put him in my pocket. He is adorable. I just want to squeeze his face and...Getting off track again. See, this is why it has taken me so long to write this. I veer.
So, back to this first scene. Hans Landa and Perrier LaPadite (who looks way to young/hot to have three grown daughters, but whatev.), a french farmer. As Landa begins to interrogate LaPadite, the camera pans down and we see that there is a family beneath the floorboards, the same family Landa is questioning LaPadite about. Landa sort of banters back and forth with LaPadite, keeping it hells civil, but you as the viewer begin to get a slight tingle of dread as he comes to the end of their conversation and point blank says, "You are sheltering enemies of the state, are you not?" LaPadite says yes, to end the harrassment of his family. Landa's men kill the Dreyfuss family, all but Shoshanna, who high tails the shit out of there.
The next scene is where we are introduced to the Basterds. My favorite scenes are with the Basterds. My all time favorite part of the entire movie? Well, that would have to be during the scene in which the Basterds are scalping the Nazi's and we are introduced to Hugo Stiglitz. Well, more like HUGO STIGLITZ! as my friend and I call him. You'll see that it is underneath the title of my blog. Suddenly, huge letters come across the screen and music begins to play and then Samuel L. Jackson's voice comes on screen. This is a classic Tarantino scene, and damn near awesome. I love me some SLJ.
The third scene follows Shoshanna around France. She somehow aquired a theater (it is a deleted scene sure to be on the DVD). She catches the eye of Zoller who can't fathom why she doesn't like him. She has this weird aversion to Nazi's. I can't imagine why, silly girl. Okay, anyways. One of the most powerful scenes in the movie (at least to me) is when Shoshanna and Landa actually come into contact. He doesn't know who she is, but she certainly knows who he is. They have a very tense talk (on her part) about hosting a German movie premier in her theater. After he leaves, Shoshanna breaks down crying. A few Germs (typo but it stays) come to view the theater and decide to host the premier in her theater. It actually becomes incredibly ironic that Zoller fought to have the location changed and it ends up causing his death. Oh, btw, that was a spoiler alert. Shoshanna then decides to lock everyone in at the premier and burn that shit to the ground.
The fourth scene includes Operation Kino. We see Archie Hicox, a role SIMON FUCKING PEGG was supposed to play, but couldn't. We see Michael Meyers, well at least that's what I'm told. He looks nothing like himself and sounds everything like Dr. Evil. Next, some Basterds and a german actress are in a bar and are about to discuss Operation Kino, when they are interrupted. Shit goes down after a Nazi officer recognizes that Hicox uses the British three instead of the German three. (DO IT GOOCH.) The only person left alive is Bridget von Hammersmark. (I don't know how Tarantino had the patience to type that out numerous times! I could barely do it once! She will hence be referred to has BvonH...no, just Bvon. Sounds like a rapper...Right, off track...) After the Basterds save Bvon (hehe), she informs them that Hitler will be attending the premier. They then make a new plan.
The last part. THE LAST PART. Seriously, it is one of my favorite scenes in a movie HANDS DOWN. Three of the Basterds (Raine, Donny and Hirschberg) sneak into the premier disguised as Italians. They have God awful accents, and, had Landa not known who they were in advance, they surely would have been caught within seconds. Landa knew who they were because of a bar shoot out and a shoe. So many things happen and I don't want to ruin it in case someone is waiting to rent it, but...OH MY GOD. The end of the movie was fantastic.

I know I didn't do a good job explaining this. So, here are some main points:
1) Christoph Waltz is ADORABLE. Seriously, if I ever met him all I would want to do is hug him. And it was pretty bad because I was completely oblivious to what an evil little shit he was in that movie. I was just thinking, "Oh, but he's so adorable! Look at that face! And...Hey! DON'T YOU HURT HIM!!!!!" I saw him in another movie where he was playing what I assumed to be a villan doing all types of mean shit and the main character was trying to wrestle the gun from Christoph and I was like, "Will you leave him alone, you annoying hero. Can't you see he's trying to get something done! Dick off. Your help is not welcome."
2) Brace your eyes immediately after the beginning credits end.
3) There are a lot of subtitles, so if you have trouble reading/can't read (though, then you wouldn't be reading this)/don't like to read/or wear glasses, I suggest you plan accordingly. I watched a boot leg version of this movie (Oh, dick off. I paid to see it twice as well) and there were no subtitles. I had no idea what the hell was going on for about forty-five minutes. And then all of a sudden it was back in English and they were talking about stuff and then there was fire and screaming. Seriously, they were speaking English a little in the bar, then the vet's office...then everything was on fire.
4) The last scene when they are in the theater is absolutely fantastic. I can't even...Ah.
5) When the Bear Jew beats that Nazi to death, just remember this: Before that scene Eli Roth was listening to Hananh Montana. You'd beat someone to death, too.

Let's see if this works

ZOMBIES.
ZOMBIES.
ZOMBIES.
JUDGE REINHOLD.
JUDGE REINHOLD.
JUDGE REINHOLD.

So this is what it comes to

Google Adsense reviewed my blog...and these are the ads they think are most relevant to my "readers." I just busted a rib scream laughing. Seriously, this is the best thing ever.


Male breast reduction!!!

This is why my homework is never done

Gooch: So my bra broke…so I have to keep adjusting it…and every time I do, the guy next to me stares down my cleavage!


Me: Buy some damn bras. All your bras are broken!

Gooch: This one just broke! I have three that are still intact. This guy is creeping me out though. You’d think he never saw cleavage before!

Me: Before next class put a little fake chest hair in your cleavage. He won’t bother you anymore. Pics or it never happened.

Gooch: That’s gross…and too much work…I’ll just let him look down my shirt.

Me: Whore.

Gooch: No. Just lazy.

Me: You obviously don’t value our friendship if you’re not willing to tape fake chest hair to your tits.

Gooch: What does that have anything to do with our friendship? I’m being sexually harassed and you’re suggesting fake chest hair!

Me: It has everything to do with our friendship! You owe it to yourself, Erin, your mother, me and humanity to tape fake chest hair to your tits!

Gooch: Stop. You’re gonna make scream laugh during class.

Me: You know how you get him to stop looking at your cleavage? Turn to him and say, “Don’t these look real? Nice!! Now, if I could only get this damn dick removed I’d be set…Speaking of, how’d you like to go out sometime?”

Gooch: Kayla, I’m going to fucking kill you!!! I fought back the scream laugh but my throat’s dry so I went into a coughing fit instead.

 
In case anyone is ever confused: fake chest hair is always funny.

Ugh

I don't think there is anything worse in the entire world than not being able to sleep. You start thinking crazy things after a while like: What if I can't ever fall asleep again. EVER? Your mind starts bugging out on you and you begin to contemplate drastic measures. Ugh. I can't stand it.

For me, I am so tired my eyes are drooping shut, however, as soon as I get into bed I suddenly can't swallow (this has been an ongoing thing for me. See my bitchtits thyroid post if you've forgotten about it). So, I have this massive headache that is causing my neck to hurt, therefore I can not get comfortable on my pillows, I am having trouble swallowing, there is like mucous-y crap in my throat so it feels like my saliva has to climb a hill just to get down my throat, my throat is extrememly dry, and, to top it all off, I am getting up to pee every ten seconds.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I have to get up at 730 and go observe a classroom for five hours? Or that my birthday party is tom--TONIGHT and I plan on being up until this time tomorrow morning, so 3 hours of sleep really isn't going to do me well. And I'm not a napper. Once I'm up, I'm up and apparently my body decided it wants to be up for 24 straight hours, like a son of a bitch douche.

I hope all of this is coherent. I have bouts of extremem sleepiness where I start to fall asleep sitting up, to extreme moments of complete awakeness and clarity. I popped two asprin and I'm hoping that makes my head and neck ache go away, then maybe I can take a nap before I have to get up and go observe small, loud children for five hours.

This kind of stuff only happens to me on days in which I have stuff to do in the morning. Does it ever happen on a Tuesday when I could sleep until 4 in the afternoon? Nope. What about Thursdays where I could sleep Wednesday nights through on until Friday morning? Nope. Only does this stuff happen Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday nights. ONLY THESE NIGHTS WHEN I HAVE MORNING CLASSES.

And it's my party tomorrow. And what shall I be doing? Most likely napping in a spare bedroom while everyone else has fun. THIS IS MY LIFE. IN CASE ANYONE WAS EVER CONFUSED, SHIT LIKE THIS NO LONGER SURPRISES ME. I am Murphy's Law. What can go wrong will go wrong in such a manner that you can't help but go, "Holy crap, wtf, this is redic." Word for word.

I am now going to try and get some sleep. I don't know how likely this will be, but let's try it. BITCH TITS!

I totally found him

Ok, so do remember that kid from Hocus Pocus? Well, not really the kid. Remember the cat from Hocus Pocus? Thackery Binx. Btw, let's step aside to marvel at that kickass name. You wish your name was Thackery Binx.

Okay, back to the main point of my post. Remember the kid who plays him at the end? Ever wonder where he went? TO FUCKING NCIS. So, he came back from the dead and went to co-star in the quite possibly the worst show in the history of television. I don't know how in hell this show has the audience to play every SINGLE time I turn on USA, but it does. The only two people I know in the universe who watch NCIS are my friend E and my grandmother. I am 100% sure my grandmother is the only woman keeping this show on as much as it is on. Every time I go over her house, NCIS is playing full volume. (Side note: My grandmother has an old-lady crush on Mark Harmon. She has a shirt with his face on it.)

So, yeah, that's all. I found the kid from Hocus Pocus. I can officially check that off of my list. Oh, what? You don't believe I have a list? Shame on you.

Oh heck yes

Is there a better feeling in the entire world than aceing a test you were sure you were going to fail? If there is I don't know what it is. Well...I can think of a few things, but neither of those have been happening to me lately, so there.



Suck it Humanities!

Oh, what a day

I hate Wednesdays. I am beginning to hate them more and more as time goes on. This Wednesday in particular was pretty damn annoying.

As it was a Wednesday morning, that meant I got next to zero sleep last night. For some reason my body or my brain or my subconcious realizes that I have to get up early on Mondays and Wednesdays, so it purposely won't let me fall asleep until three o'clock in the morning. I lie in bed from 12 to 3 basically twiddling my thumbs and trying desperately to fall asleep, to no avail. It also doesn't help that's it 60 degrees in my dorm at all times.

A list of reasons why I hated this Wednesday more than usual:
1) Tired as all hell when I woke up this morning. Had to pry my eyes open with my fingers. Physically hurt me to get out of bed.
2) It felt as though it were three degrees in my bedroom. I was shivering violently. My lips were blue.
3) Got slightly/moderately irritated right after my first class.
4) Walk to second class is hells inconvienient.
5) Let friend invite boyfriend. Had to extend invite to all other friends with boyfriends. ALL BUT ME!
6) Walk to bus stop is TEN TIMES more annoying. Especially when still depressed and grumpy about number 5.
7) Slight squabble over the air. Again. FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE THE HUNDRETH TIME.
8) Starving. No dinner foods. Joy.
9) Back to class.
10) Went to Target. Spent ten dollars. (Hey, it's a lot of money for me.)
11) Computer acted like a twat!!!!
12) ANOTHER FUCKING INVITE TO FARMVILLE!
13) Get this phone call from mother, "Do you have access to a fax machine? Do you? JUST ANSWER ME! Good. I'll explain in the morning." Click. (I may or may not be kidnapped by the government in the morning.)
14) Opened up bag of Ring Pops. All four flavors, including myster flavor, is Strawberry. I HATE STRAWBERRY.
15) Glanced in the mirror. Seems that me snacking on the skin from my lips makes them crack and bleed. That, coupled with the stress pimples that broke out all on and around my mouth makes it look like I have HERPES. AS THOUGH MY LIFE CAN'T GET ANY WORSE AND IT ISN'T HARD ENOUGH FOR ME TO FIND A COMPATIBLE MALE SPECIES TO DATE, BUT NOW I HAVE TO WALK AROUND LOOKING LIKE I HAVE HERPES. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Daily

Listening to: George Harrison and Paul Simon (Live, 1976 on SNL)--Here Comes the Sun and Homeward Bound. So gorgeous I can barely stand it. Watch it here.

Watching: An episode of the Office load.

Thinking: Ice cream for breakfast sounds fantastic!!

Attack of the killer zombies

So, at one thirty morning as I made my way home from Walmart and the driver of the car went to pull in a spot she said, "What a creeper!" I immediately perked up. I have much love for a fellow creeper. However, when I saw some creep-ass kid just standing right next to the car all parked in black I was not amused. Actually, I was quite the opposite. I was creeped out. Job well done, random drunken creep ass. My companion in the Walmart adventure said, "He scared me!" I agreed, but mentioned that I thought he was a zombie.
I then got to thinking about what I would do if he was a zombie. Well, one would be to instruct her to back out of the spot and haul ass to anywhere but there. Once there, it would be time to assess our surroundings. Was it just one--(Aw, fuck. All my DVDs are back in the zombie-infested campus!!!!!!!!!!!)--zombie or was it a whole bunch of them? Let's go to a populated spot and see if anyone else has come down with a case of Want-To-Eat-Brains.

Scenario #1) Not infested.
Solution: Go back to campus, find zombie and kill him. Then wait for about thirty seconds to see if anyone else on campus is acting strange. Awesome, no one else is. Yay!
Outcome: You accidentally killed a drunken frat guy. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Scenario #2) Slightly infested
Solution: Make our way north and away from the populated places. Try and find a tv and see if the entire world, country, state or even town is getting like this. It is likely to get worse. Try calling a few people: parents, grandparents, friends. Inform them of what is going on and telling them to try and find safety. If not, sever each other's heads. If it looks like it is going to get very bad, refer to scenario #3.
Outcome: Got to see how bad it's getting, and got to say goodbye to loved ones. How many of you get to do that in the case of zombies? Not many!

Scenario #3) Holy shit! infested. Looks like the entire world is coming down with a case of Zombie
Solution: Drive to the nearest place they have guns. Grab a gun, load in two bullets, hand it to my companion and say, "Shoot me in the face." She will (hopefully) protest a bit and say no, but then I shall use my planned speech in the case of zombies: "I am not interested in fighting off hundreds of the undead. I am not interested in living in a world where all of my friends and family are either dead or the hungry undead. I am fat and can not run very fast, you will trip me eventually. So, take this gun and SHOOT ME IN THE FACE! Because once I get bitten by a zombie (which I will) I'm gonna become pretty damn annoying to you and everyone around me. Not interested! SHOOT ME! Will you just--Oh, you know what, give that to me!" BANG.
Outcome: Sure, I left my friend alone and traumatized with blood all over her face, but that's why there's another bullet in that gun.

Scenario #4) Can't find gun. And shit is about to get real.
Solution: Drive to the nearest Walmart. Go to the cold remedies. Grab as much NyQuil as possible. Get back in the car and drive back to campus. Go into dorm room and shut the door over. Put on some Golden Girls episodes and drink. Imagine Betty White as a zombie and giggle.
Outcome: You fell asleep and missed most of the action. You wake up alive. WTF. Fuck it. Grab a weapon and go out fighting.

This may seem kind of weird and morbid, but in the case of a zombie attack, you as my companion have one job and one job only: Shoot me in the face. Because as I see it, I'll eventually be bitten and then I'm just one more zombie you're out running. I won't mind, either! I'll put in a good word for you, tell them you did me a favor.

New layout

I'll never be truly happy with the layouts. It will be a never ending journey for me to find complete happiness with a template. Until then, you must jump around with me. Deal with it, my loves.

I'll tell you what? Let's just turn it into a drinking game, but with ginger ale because I AM IN NO MOOD.
One shot if my font is different.
Two shots if the color scheme is different.
Finish the can of ale if the entire damn thing looks different.

Photo

Don't you wish you were there?

In case you were wondering

I hope my computer dies a truly horrible death. And I shall laugh. Oh, how I shall laugh.

Listening to: Leona Lewis--Happy
Watching: my can of ginger ale accumulate condensation
Thinking: "Why am I SWEATING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In reference to that half a pound below

I'm gonna say I'm like...96% positive I gained it back. See, I made the mistake (AGAIN) of going food shopping while hungry. The entire time I'm there I'm looking at all this stuff I want to buy. I spent forty-five minutes walk back and forth through the frozen food section. FORTY FIVE MINUTES! And what did I end up buying? What I always end up buying...Well, for the most part.
I was just leaving with my Red Barron pizza (amazeballs), and I happened to glance over at the frozen cookie dough. And do you know what is right next to the frozen cookie dough? Pillsbury Doughboy Cinnamon buns. My mouth immediately watered and I nearly flooded the aisle with my drool. I hadn't had a cinnamon bun in a long time. Too long.
I inched over to them. Meanwhile, my brain was screaming at me to step away immediately. My ass agreed because it knew it meant more time on that damn eliptical machine. I got so close my nose was almost touching the can. Every single ounce of my being wanted to scoop up that can and run from the store. But I didn't. No. I stayed strong. I turned around and started walking away. Plus, a dollar sixty-seven is a little too expensive.
I started to proudly walk away and towards the cash registers when I spotted, in a seperate freezer marked CLEARANCE, a can of Pillsbury Doughboy Cinnamon buns on CLEARANCE. On clearance I tell you! I grabbed them, ran to the front and hurriedly bought them before I could change my mind. I made them and distributed them out between me and my roommates.
From now on, I am going to make shirts for myself. And on these shirts it shall say: FAT GIRL ON DIET. DO NOT LET HER BUY FOOD FROM YOU. (SERIOUSLY. WE TAKE THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY). With a picture of my face below.

Work It

I have lost a half a pound. Go. Me.

Yet another new layout

Ever since I figured out exactly how to switch my layout around, I have been slowly but surely fiddling around with it. Getting acquainted with my surroundings. Anyone who knows me (which is everyone who reads this blog) has probably realized I get bored rather easily. An example would be with my handwriting. One day I like writing in cursive, and the next I'll write in my fat little handwriting, while another day I'll write really cramped and neat. I can't help it. I get crack-scratch and must change it around. I like all the colors of this blog. It makes it look so nice and homey and warm and Lisa Frank-ey.
So, I have yet ANOTHER four day weekend on my hands. I get out of class 1200 on Friday and then do not have class until 500 Tuesday. If you were to look up the definition of Amazeballs it would say, "Go see Kayla Willis and see the weekend she is having. Dayum. Oh, and compliment her hair." I am going home (again) for a number of reasons. One, to see my grandfather who is ill, two to do some laundry (I just ran out of socks), three to see my friends (HUGO STIGLITZ), four to see my kitties (Elsa and Gus) and lastly to see my family.
Again, coming soon will be my Inglourious Basterds post, but I'm hoping to see it a second time (Oh, Gooch!!) before I write anything about it. I want it fresh in my mind.
On a completely different sidenote I had to actually explain to someone today the difference between a potty mouth and a party mouth. A) No such thing as a party mouth, so you can go ahead and cross that out right now. B) Potty mouth means I say the word FUCK a lot.
She then got a little chuffed when I said the word FUCK out loud, which in turn got me offended. Don't make a face when I swear, okay? I'll swear so much it'll make your head explode. By the time I'm done with you, you'll have to go home and Google half the shit I said. Grrr. Oh, and another thing, body parts should not be considered swear words. If I want to say ballsack, I'm going to say ballsack.
BALLSACK!

My beef with the Final Destination bullshit

So, we have on our hands, ANOTHER Final Destination movie. Apparently, we need four of them to really hammer home the point: If you are lucky enough to see your own death before it happens, and try to save innocent people, it'll come back and bite you on the ass. Probably literally, if happen to be at a zoo anywhere from one hour to five days after either you got saved or someone saved you. Way to try and make good deeds feared. You generally WANT people to do what these people are doing. Why discourage it? If I'm on a plane and someone is all, "It's gonna crash GET THE FUCK OFF!" What should I do? Let it take off with me on it, or get off and get killed in some other weird way? The choices. THE CHOICES. Basically, I'm fucked and it's all a matter of how I'd like to die. I'm getting off that plane and heading to my local liquor store and getting my ass drunk. Then I don't care WHAT happens.
Also, what about the people who don't choose to be "saved"? Huh? What the hell happens to them? It's not their fault some asshole tried to save their life. But they get punished anyways? Lovely. In the first movie, people were PUSHED off the plane against their will, but they still died in horrific ways. Like, I get Death has this master plan and all, but really? There are six billion people (and counting) on the planet. Is little ole me (NO JOKES) going to make that big of a difference?
I would also like to take the time to complain about the way people die. The movies take place in average towns, average cities. Everywhere, America, if you will. I know where I come from if a group of five-eight people survived a freak accident only to be killed in five-eight OTHER freak accidents, I'd think it was pretty fucking weird. That isn't normal, okay? The people in these movies do not just die in, like, a car accident, or anything. They die when they get locked in a freezer overnight or if a chunk of the moon rips off and falls directly on them. It's the stupidest ways and totally unbelievable. If you survive racecars falling on you, only to go the mall and get sucked into the escalator, I'd say you have shitty luck. I'd want to know who in your town is responsible for building or maintaining shit, because they need to be fired. They obviously suck at their job. Can you imagine eight freak accidents in one town? Like, wtf?? Don't you people have a safety board? People in charge of shit like this to make sure it doesn't happen once, let alone FIVE TO EIGHT TIMES IN A WEEK! Also, I like how the director always makes it a point to show some trivial thing as the cause of the massacre. For instance, someone's bracelet breaking and one of the charms falls on the ground and the next thing you know a fucking building fell down on a group of kids on a class trip but some strung out little kid managed to save his best friend, girlfriend, the kid he hates, that kid's girlfriend, an outcast and some other random person who just happened to get out in the shuffle. Again, I get Death has this whole plan and shit, but if I survived and I wasn't supposed to, does Death really want me to die in some fucked up, horrific way? Death can't give me terminal cancer or a brain aneurysm so I die peacefully in my sleep? I have to get severed in half and then have my face run over by a bus full of nuns? Really, Death? REALLY? You're kind of rude. There, I said it.
I'm sorry, but BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLSHIT!
Did people actually go and see this movie? Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
For all those who did, don't you know Inglourious Basterds was in theaters? Don't you know that was quite possibly one of the most amazing movies I have ever seen? This may be a little premature, but it has a solid spot on the Top Ten movies of my life and a tentative spot on the Top Five (let me live a little longer).
More on Inglourious Basterds later. However, Gooch, you know what I'm talkin' about already. BONES!

What my ass has to say about what I did last night

So, I have some extra weight hanging around my body. We've lived together for a while now, and it's been a lovely tennant. However, I think it is now time to evict some of this weight. So, I've started a plan to go to the gym and work out. And, while I know I've made this promise to myself maybe a hundred times now, I've decided to stick to it. I have a gym buddy (The Bex) to go with me now. Not only that, but I live right next to the gym, and it's free admission. This is the Universe telling me to put down the cupcake, and hop on the treadmill. All in all I'm pretty happy about my decision. You know who isn't happy about it, though? My ass.

See, my ass is pretty content with the way things run around here. My ass likes that I do not jog or bike ride around campus. And it loves the cosmic brownies I bought last week. What my ass does not love, is that this morning marks the third time I have put on sneakers, a training bra, an old tee and some yoga pants. My ass hates that I've been working out. In fact, my ass is, at this very moment, screaming in pain.

My ass thought that she and I had a deal last night, when I was laying on my stomach, feeling the pain. I promised never to do that again, but, alas, I forced myself to go. The only way to get in shape is to suck it up and do it. And do it I have been. And not without any resistance, either. Here is a little excerpt of what my ass has been saying today:

10:30 am

"Ow. Happy? Are you happy with all this pain? Yeah, you hobble to the bathroom, bitch. And when you're done, get back into bed and sleep until two or so, then maybe I'll think about forgiving you."

10:40 am

"You're getting dressed? Fine. Get dressed and then sit down and relax. Look at The Golden Girls over there. Doesn't season two look inviting? Unwrap the plastic, pop in a DVD and relax."

10:45 am

"Why are you wearing sneakers? You better not be doing what I think you might be doing!"

10: 46 am

"Oh. Car keys? Exciting! Where are we going? To the movies? Maybe shopping?"

10:50 am

"Huh. Why are we at Becca's? Is she coming with us to the movies? That's weird...she's also dressed in yoga pants and sneakers. Did you plan this?"

10:55 am

"You drove right past your dorm...Did you do that on purpose? We're not going in the right direction of the movies. Oh, are we going for a ride? Exciting!!"

11:00 am

"No. Uh-uh. Back out of the parking spot, immediately. Don't you dare get out of this car! I mean it! So help me, if you get out of this car!"

11: 03 am

"Get out of the gym's lobby! GET OUT NOW!"

11: 04 am

"Don't you dare sign your name! Don't you dare hand over your card to be swiped!"

11: 05 am

"You bitch!"

11: 08 am

"Ha. I'm glad you have to wait for a machine. You deserve it, bitch."

11:1o am

"Get off of the machine! If you get off the eliptical machine RIGHT NOW and go back to the dorm and make some food other than LEAN CUISINE MAC AND CHEESE, I might think about forgiving you this year!"

11:11 am

"It's 11:11! Make a wish! AND DON'T START UP THE MACHINE! I MEAN IT!!!!!!!"

11:12 am

"UUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!"

11: 50 am

"I hate you. Don't talk to me."

So, what prompted this? Well...the picture above. I didn't realize how GINORMOUS I looked until I saw that picture. This must be what other people see when they look at me, and it isn't pretty. But, the biggest thing to remember is that I've realized I have a problem and I am trying to make a difference. So, this is what August looks like. Let's see what September looks like.

UPDATE:

Financial aid is all fixed.
Holla.

Hmm...

I'm not sure which karmic God I pissed off and why, but karma and the Universe is out to get me. I am no longer certain the Universe wants me to go to school. I think it wants me to drop out and pursue Judge Reinhold full-time. I'm all for it, but my weird obessession with Judge doesn't pay the bills (Well...as far as I know. I haven't really looked into it, but I do know the creep ass stalker doesn't roll in dough, you know?). You know what would actually be fantastic? Absolutely spiffing? If karma and the Universe could stop jerking me around. You clearly didn't want me at URI, so I came back to Florida. And now you don't want me to go to FGCU? Well, you picky little fuckers, if you gave clearer signs I'd do as you asked and not piss you off so!
Oh, and remember Most Glorious Wonder Woman? SHE IS NO MORE. We shall now refer to her as Woman Who Does Not Give Out Correct Information and Fucked Me Over Into Getting Another 5500 Dollar Loan. For short, we shall call her Not a Most Glorious Wonder Woman. Because that 5500 dollar loan that was supposed to cover a meal plan and books, now covers my housing and other costs. I'm making my mother come to see what these "other costs" are, because I think I am funding someone's drug habit. Seriously, I am paying way too much money to be coming to this school. This isn't Harvard, this isn't Yale, this isn't URI!!! If I wanted to be miserable, buried in debt and growing a worry-ulcer, then I'd move back to RI and go to school there! Not a Most Glorious Woman, you are lucky I have plans this weekend, because your face and my fist would of have had words this morning! (Heehee! Don't I sound slightly badass? Well, I'm NOT! More like I would have yelled until I cried!)
But you know what? I'm going to stay positive. And, I know this may seem uncool, I called my mommy and she's coming to take care of it. Mock me all you want, but this is the same woman who has made cashier's and waitress's lives hell! And I love her for it! She's going to go in, ready for a fight, and hopefully she'll get this all sorted out...
Or I'm selling some eggs, incubating a gay couple's baby, and selling off some dvds and heading out to California. Sell some Nicolas Cage stories and I'll be set...GOOCH, YOU WANNA COME?

And they called it The Vamp

This is soooo messed up. They are officially coming out with a Twilight dildo. It's called the Vamp, as seen above. Apparently, women are so obsessed with Edward, they can't use a regular dildo anymore. This is a perfect example of what is wrong with America. Instead of someone figuring out how to cure cancer, we have people figuring out how to make fictional literary characters dick's into life sized models. Someone thought up this idea, okay? Someone thought this up, sketched out the idea and presented it to a board of people. This board of people looked at his sketches and decided this was a good idea. This board of people green lighted the go-ahead for this. Out of twenty or so people, no one thought this was a bad idea? No one said, "Oh, hey, wait. We didn't add in the creep factor. Back to the drawing board."

So, what is the creep factor? I'll tell you.

1) You can put it in the fridge to keep it cold. OKay, let's break this down. You stick this up your no-no land, so logic says you should probably not put it in the fridge with your food. That's just hells gross and unsanitary. Do I even need to say it? Shouldn't that just be a natural thought from a human being? You don't put dildos in the fridge. Period. End of discussion. It's gross. Secondly, you stick this up your no-no land. Why on Earth would you want it to be cold? I can't think of anything more uncomfortable.

2) You take it outside and it sparkles. So, this "Edward" replica sparkles when you take it outside...So, basically, you want everyone who buys it to masturbate outside? And get arrested? I don't know where you're from, dildo maker, but where I'm from that's called public indecency, and you get your bare ass arrested for it. After I buy your dildo, follow your instructions and get arrested, are you going to come bail me out? Is that included with the price of the dildo?

3) Who the hell are they marketing this dildo to? The thirteen year old girl in Minnesota who is obsessed with Twilight? Who of dildo buying age is so obsessed with Twilight they feel the need to buy this? I feel like this dildo was made to catch pediphiles and I was put on a watch list for even looking at it.

4) The description is all types of ridiculousness. "Fantasize about being with Edward? Now you don't have to! It's just like being with the real thing!" My response? How the hell would you know what it's like to fuck Edward? As far as I know, he is a made up vampire, aka NOT REAL. How can you have sex with something that isn't real? How do you know what a fictional vampire's penis feels like? And, again, who is fantasizing about being with Edward? Tweens! Are you seriously marketing your dildo to tweens, cuz that's illegal.

I may like Harry Potter and some people may call me obsessed, but this above is where I draw the line. Do you see me running out buying a Severus Snape dildo? No. Why? A) Cuz I'm not crazy and B) Because they haven't made it yet. Also, let me say this: Harry Potter is a million times better than Twilight beause at least SOMETHING HAPPENED IN THOSE BOOKS! AT LEAST THE MAIN CHARACTER DIDN'T CRY FOR 500 PAGES!

My, my, my, look at all these palm trees!

So. So...Soooooooooooooooo.

I moved into my dorm yesterday. There it is above. I know, I know. You're saying to yourself, "Why does she have Christmas lights up in August?" Well, you are mistaken. Those aren't Christmas lights above, oh no. Those are the devil's lights! For only he would make lights that refuse to hang on a wall, even with thumbtacks! I finally got them to stay after three rolls of tape, nineteen thumbtacks and the threat of bodily harm. I don't even feel like they're "hanging on my wall." I feel like they're hovering over me, waiting for the worst possible time to fall to the ground. Like if I were to say, "Hey, come look at my Christmas lights!" and then they'd fall seconds before I opened the door, that kind of time.

Well, after I got those evil, evil, EVIL little lights on the wall, I turned to my television. I set aside an hour to set up my tv. I just figured there was going to be something wrong with it. There is always something wrong with the tv. And, with my luck, I'd have some weird ass little problem. Well, I plugged it in and screwed on the cable wire and, the moment of truth, I turned it on. AND IT WORKED. I was dumbfounded. I mean, I read the instructions, I did what it said and it actually worked? What kind of black magic television is this? Where were all the problems I was expecting? Where were all the tears of frustration I was ready to cry? Where was the swearing I had prepared to do? WHERE WAS IT?

Oh, yeah. Sitting in my piece of shit computer. Because when I turned my computer on and followed the directions to set up the internet, my computer laughed in my face, threw me the finger and shut down. And then wouldn't start up again. Then only the guest section of my computer would come on, and then that wouldn't come on, but my main account worked. Through all of this I did not have internet. However, I did have my Golden Girls. Luckily for me, I bought seasons one and two yesterday (for nine bucks a piece. Suck it, Target, I would have payed much more!). Well, this morning I call internet services and Mumbly Mouth who answers the phones gave me all types of instructions, all of which went ununderstood by me. I'm not one to judge. I, too, am fluent in mumbly mouth. However, when you are on the phone with a mumbly mouther and they are giving you critical directions, it is always nice to know if they are saying, "Click continue and then hit run" instead of, "Licks neptune and it was fun." Because I was like, "Sir, there is no neptune on my computer, and I don't care how fun it is, I am not licking it." I finally decoded his cryptic-ass message (and by decoded I heard him say the word ethernet cable and hung up) and went to get myself some internet connection.

I go up to the bookstore, walking past a hundred people in line to buy books, and squeeze my way to get my cable. And then, I turn around and see the amount of people. I'm not sure why I didn't realize how crowded it was, and that I was going to have to wait in this line. A part of me thought they would let me cut because I didn't have a book in my hand. I realized I couldn't wait in that line. I'd still be in line. I'd grow old in that line. I'd die in that line and they'd have to yank the withered ethernet cable out of my cold, dead, clenched fists. So, I went back to my car. In the four seconds it took me to walk from the front door to my car I was drenched in sweat. All types of sweat. Upper lip sweat, forehead sweat, back sweat, boob sweat, behind the knee sweat. You name it, I've sweated it. I drove my dripping ass (yes, that got sweaty, too) over to Staples and bought one of their ethernet cables.

I get home and plug it in. And, like the hand of God came down and touched his palm to my computer, I saw that little tiny globe come to sit on top of the two stacked computer monitors in the bottom right hand corner of my screen. Without breathing, without getting my hopes up too high, I clicked on the internet AND IT LOADED WITHOUT A PROBLEM. Where was the problem? I don't understand! I have the worst luck of almost anyone in the world! It loaded, just like that! Where was the problem I had been preparing myself for?

Oh. Yeah. In my student loans that disappeared. I was told I was getting a certain amount of money, and when I went today, they told me I still owed 800 bucks. And I had yet to get a meal plan or buy any books. So, basically, I still had about 2500 bucks to come up with. I wanted to ask the man behind the computer if he thought I was sweating pure gold. Was I sharting diamonds and rubies? Were was I supposed to get 2500 by the 28th? Do you, sir, have 2500 bucks in your backpocket? Then why do you assume I do? Well, I spoke to a different person, a woman this time. We shall call her Most Glorious Wonder Woman, because she got me another loan. So, instead of going into downtown Ft. Myers and selling my body to as many takers as I could get (I was guestimating about two or three if I threw in a few DVDs), I suddenly had loan money again! I just have to wait until Monday morning to get it. And then, just like that, another problem went away...

But where it went I still do not know...

Well now you've done it

Are you happy, tweens? Are you happy, Meyer? Are you happy, K-Stew and R-Patz? Are you happy, Mike Dexter? Well, yes we know you're happy. You're Mike F-ing Dexter.
It seems that Twilight/Tween mania has reached a breaking point. See, every single magazine out from People to Good Housekeeping has a picture of some jack-off tween on it. Really, it's sickening. Although, those Tiger Beat magazines, you know the ones geared specifically for twelve year old girls, are hilarious. I happened to flip through one the other day and the top article was, "Zac Efron also went to school!" Um...is that supposed to help me relate to him better? Okay, he went to school. So do millions of other, cuter, non-gay face inflicted boys. Another article featuring Miley Cyrus was, "Boys don't really like me." Uh, newsflash, Miley, it isn't just boys. No one likes you.
Let's break it down:
Miley Cyrus: Okay. Where to begin? How about that her voice is what I imagine the end of the world sounds like. It already sounds like she's been smoking for the last fifteen years and looks like she had to have a gum-replacement surgery, but they screwed up and gave her the GUMS OF A GIANT. And have you heard her give an interview? Even in print I can't stand to see her speak. And she's just so obnoxious. Not even the good obnoxious, either. Also, I don't know why they keep putting her stalker back in jail. That man is just doing humanatarian work! I don't see you putting people in jail for trying to save the enviornment! This guy is just doing his part to make the world a better place!
Twilight: I'm not going to lie. I read the first book and I thought it was okay. I was a little offended that this boy was kind of slowly creeping on her so forcefully and she was all, "Yay, he's a vampire, wants to kill me and suck my blood. That must mean he really, really loves me!" My friend thought it was romantic that Edward used to come watch her sleep from day one until I explained it like this: "Imagine the first day of school, you come into your first period class, and sit down next to some random kid you've never met/seen before. You glance over at him, but do not really talk. Now, with that in mind, imagine you woke up that night to pee and saw that kid sitting on your chair watching you sleep. HOW THE FUCK WOULD THAT MAKE YOU FEEL?"
New Moon: Pages 1-10, Bella is hells ungrateful for the party being thrown for her. Pages 11-550, Bella cries. A lot. Pages 551-560, Bella screws Jacob over. Pages 561-5whateverthefuckingpageendsthisshittybook, Bella apparently goes to Italy for some reason. I don't really remember. I got bored.
Eclipse: Pages 1-550, Bella complains about...something, everything. Bitch needs an attitude adjustment. Pages 551-600, Jacob becomes a date raper, Edward gets to the border of creep-ass weird-ass stalker, barrels right over it to abusive/creepy.weird-ass/waits till marriage creeper. Page 601, there's a "giant" battle. Pages 602-whothehellcares, they talk about marriage.
Breaking Dawn: Dude, I can't really remember. I think at one point there was a battle...maybe. I know there was that absolutely ridiculous baby name. Someone was bit on the vagina. I don't know, it's all really fuzzy. Mostly because it was so damn awful it took me like months to get through the book. I still have no idea what happened. I'm assuming everyone dies and the only people to live happily ever after is me.

I fear the tween army is growing..

Daily Dose

Adaptation? I am not familiar with that movie. Ada-tap that asian? Yes. I am familiar.

One the way home

My radio has been quite nice the past two days. And by nice I mean it gets more than two stations. Tonight as I was leaving work I found a station that wasn't on the commercial. It was ONE OF THOSE STATIONS. You know the ones I mean, where they play one good song after another. And songs that you haven't heard in frigging forever, but as soon as they come on you can't believe you ever forgot about them. The kind of songs that make you sing loudly and dance and bounce around in your seat.
As soon as I tuned in it played a song I hadn't heard in ages. I was like, Cool beans. I'm going to enjoy driving home tonight. Then, the next song came on: also a winner. For five songs this radio station did me good. Just as I was getting ready to dub this the best radio station EVER, Miley Cyrus came on.
I was like, "Oooh. Close, radio station, close. The correct answer was Single Ladies by Beyonce or anything by No Doubt."
Leave it to Miley Cyrus. She'll not be happy until she's runied everything about my life.

Thinkin' about it

I wrote two (2) stories now about Nicolas Cage. I did them each for a seperate friend on their birthdays. It was all in good fun and for no other reason than a laugh, until...
My mother informed me that Good Housekeeping has a short story contest! I already know I'm not going to win. I mean, der. I wrote a story I'm likely to get sued about if I ever try to publish it. One part involves Keanu Reeves and Nicolas Cage slow dancing in a Korean club. Probably didn't happen.
What is the worst that can happen? I have to ask myself.
Worst Case Scenario: Someone at Good Housekeeping reads my story, hates it and I get a rejection letter (maybe). Fine. Cool. I wasn't a writer yesterday and that means I'm not a writer today. No biggie.
Eh Case Scenario: Someone at Good Housekeeping reads it, finds it humerous, but still can't publish it. I get a letter back saying while they thought it was hilarious, it's highly illegal. Would I be interested in writing funny columns for them?
BEST CASE SCENARIO: Someone at Good Housekeeping is high off their ass. They read this, think it's fantastic and actually publish my story. I GET SUED BY NICOLAS CAGE AND KEANU REEVES. Now, picture it: Me and all 5'3 and frizziness in a California court room battling over my little story. After I win (because I just say, listen, don't publish it. I don't really care), I get to meet Keanu Reeves and Nicolas Cage (or at least be closer to them than I would have in the first place). I'll ask Nicolas Cage or Keanu Reeves to INTRODUCE ME TO JUDGE REINHOLD. Bam! They do. Bam! Sparks fly, angels cry and the next thing you know, me and Judge are eating lunch somewhere in California.
This plan has awesomeness written all over it. I swear, I don't know why I'm even going to college. I'm totally missing my calling as an EVIL MASTERMIND!! Mwhahahahaha!

New Layout

So, after eight months or so with this blog, I just now started poking around with my settings. I've been looking at other blogs and always wonder how they get theirs so personal. Then I realized, Oh, yeah, you ARE allowed to change stuff. I'm liking this new layout for right now.
I also realized that when I write a new post, I've been doing it in the wrong spot. Instead of in the COMPOSE section, I've been doing it in the EDIT HTML section, aka: the ghetto-ass section. I thought my blog just downgraded about six months ago. No, I have been clicking on the wrong tab for six months. Enlightenment.
Also, I accidentally allowed my blog to translate everything for me into Hindu. It took my ten minutes to figure out how to change it back to English. I'm not the best at this kind of stuff.
I wanted to also say that I am going to be posting parts of a fun little story I wrote. I have written about Nicolas Cage. There is a sequel which I have just concluded this week. All in all I am very excited about it.
Well, that's it for the updates.

Heard at work

"No, listen, this it toally full proof. You want to know how you get out of a DUI?"
"How?"
"When you get your liscence you get a suit and get your picture taken in it."
"Why?"
"So when the arresting officer looks at your picture and sees you in a suit, he already thinks you're a professional business man. You can then just tell him you're a lawyer."
"Does that really work?"
"You bet it does."
"Cool. Thanks for the advice, Dad!"
And then the father and fourteen year old boy left the store to presumably get shit faced and go for a drive.

OKay, I have a problem with this.
One: This boy is fourteen years old. How many teenage boys do you know that are lawyers?
Secondly: Nice parenting. Instead of telling him to stay away from drinking and driving, this father gives his son a way to get around jail time.
Thirdly: How often do you have to get pulled over while drunk to know that this works? Maybe it's time to either stop driving or stop drinking. Obviously, doing the two aint workin' for ya.

Day Three Without a Car Door Handle

So, I don't think I've ever mentioned my car, but let me. It cost my parents anywhere from free to maybe 1400 bucks. I like my car enough that I tolerate most of its annoyances. For example, there are massive chuncks ripped out of the steering wheel. Also, where you snap the seat belts in is kind of cracked on one, and broken on the other. In short, it looks like the previous owner transformed into a werewolf in this car and then beat the shit out of it.
My car is very tiny. I am a very short person and even I feel kind of cramped when I'm in my car. When there are other people in it I get kind of clausterphobic.
The radio sucks. Hard. It gets two channels on it, so I had to buy a ridiculously expensive ipod hookup, stick it in the lighter thingie and listen to my ipod. Well, my ipod had shit for music on it, so I had to go onto itunes and buy more music. My brother calls it my hippie/indie bullshit music. I just think he's mad because he can't cry and cut himself to the tempo.
One day, for no reason other than it sucks, the speaker on the driver side popped out. Spontaneously, as though it were working up the momentum to do it for weeks and finally thought it was the right time. And what was under the speaker? Cardboard. So, not only is my car kind of shitty, but it just told me that if I am ever in an accident in this car, I am dying. I'm not talking about a sixty-mile an hour crash, either. I'll just be obliterated in that. A fender bender will likely cause my car to fold up and crush me to death in it.
Another thing about my car is that it violently shakes if I go over 65 miles an hour. And I mean it shakes like I'm about to launch into space. For a while I was afraid that that meant my car was going to explode, but then I realized it was too big of a pussy to do that. It just shook for the hell of it. Shook and whined. My car makes the loudest whines when I drive. Like, "Stoooooooooooop! Go park me somewhere and walk, you fat ass! Let me rest!"
Also, the check transmission light on my car has been on since I got it. The mechanic we got it from said that the problem was that the sensor is slightly cracked and I should be more concerned if the light turned off.
Lastly, three days ago today, I pulled off my car door handle. I put my key in the key hole, turned it (all is normal), and then go to open the door. And the handle comes clear off, save for a small chunk in the right corner. I'm surprised. Usually the door handle stays on the car, but not in mine. I am so surprised that I stumble backwards and topple over (waking everyone in China) and land maybe an inch from falling in the ditch on the side of the house.
My dad saw the whole thing, laughed and said he could fix it. Great. It only took him about TWO YEARS to fix the fan in the den, so fingers crossed this gets done by the time I gradutate college.

So Sad!

As of 10:48 pm on August 3, 2009...I have become an official Facebook stalker. I gained creep status for doing an unspecified thing for about twenty five minutes, which is more time than I spent on my appearance this morning.
I want to apologize to my mother and grandmother, and most importantly, said stalked upon person.
I guess I will now be living the life of a creeper. It doesn't feel any different, though I now can't help but giggle at the world harness...

Bitch Tits Photobucket

Photobucket.com doesn't recognize Samuel L. Jackson's name in it's search box. It keeps asking me if I'm sure that's who I'm looking for.
Uh, yeah, Photobucket, I think I know who I'm looking for.
Don't ask me why I'm looking up Samuel L. Jackson pictures. Just...don't.

Shark Week

Shark Week began without me knowing? Damn nine hour shifts!

OKay, I'm starting to get a little annoyed

I don't want to be the crazy blogger who only bitches about Twilight so much that someone comes to my house and kills me (I can't even imagine who they'll cast in my lifetime movie). But, when I am listening to the new Kelly Clarkson song on Youtube (Already Gone. Ch-ch-check it out!) and the first comment I read says, "Doesn't this totally sound like the song Edward would write for Bella? I totally feel like this describes their relationship!! :)" I get a little pissed.
It's like...what? No! No! Come ON! Nooooo! This song has nothing to DO with Twilight! What is the matter with you? Next thing you know, some freaky little girl out in Minnesota is going to start finding hidden messages in her newspapers that "totally describe their relationship."
Finding hidden messages in stuff is cool. Us English majors love to do it. In fact, classes are spent dedicated to going over various forms of literature. But then there is the different kind of hidden messages. There is anaylisis of To Kill a Mockingbird, and then there is anylisis of Jesus Toast.
Now, you tell me where finding Twilight references in anything falls. A literary masterpiece? Or Jesus toast?
I'm leaning towards Jesus toast.
And now I want some toast.

Quote of the Day

Best pick up line ever:

"Hey, does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

Classic.

Seriously now...

This morning I was informed that Stephanie Meyer was going to be immortilized in a comic book. This comic book's sole purpose is to showcase "a broad examination of strong and influential women who are shaping modern history and culture." WTF!
First of all, Stephanie Meyer's only claim to fame is making a stupid series about a clumsy girl who falls in love with a stalker/abuser/murderer/vampire. Now, I can see her being honored for that if she made Bella a strong, assertive female who knows what she wants from life and stands up for herself. BUT SHE DOESN'T! She is a damsel in distress in every possible way! Meyer made a character who can't even walk down the hall without tripping and needing saving by Edward. It's bullshit. So, instead of teaching girls to be strong and independent, Meyer decides to tell them, "No. You need to be saved. You need a man in order to survive every day life. Hey, and if he leaves bruises on your arms, stalks you and tells you you're not allowed to pick your own friends that just means he loves you and wants to marry you."
On to my second point. Besides telling girls that it is okay if your boyfriend beats you, as long as he apologizes later and maybe marries you, but this series is complete bull shit. I read the first book, hoping for vampire sex, and thought, okay, this has potential. I read the second book (hoping for vampire sex) and couldn't figure out how this got published. Maybe I should write a book in which the main character cries for three hundred pages and then leads along a very nice boy who she knows is in love with her.
What did Twilight teach girls?
1) If the school freak stalks you, breaks into your house and watches you sleep at night and tells you how hard it is for him to not snap your neck and drink your blood on a second-to-second basis, it means he LOVES YOU! Congratulations! Creepy boys everywhere rejoice! (Just sparkle.)
What did New Moon teach girls?
1) Okay, so you don't have strong feelings for that boy who is obviously in love with you. How about you string him along and get his hopes up? Just apologize when he thinks you're in a relationship together, but you're actually not, and then drop him as soon as your ex-boyfriend comes back into the picture. He'll understand, right? Oh, and don't forget to completely ignore him and be snotty with him because your returned boyfriend forbids you from seeing him!
2) If your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore, he doesn't mean it! He just wants you to prove your love! How about you jump off that nice cliff over there?
That's just fucking lovely, Meyer!
What did Eclipse teach girls?
1) After making Edward creepy as all FUCKING HELL, Meyer realizes that everyone is pretty much rooting for Jacob and Bella. Bellcob, if you will. So, how does her Mormon brain decide to stop the insanity? She turns Jacob into a date raper. He keeps kissing her after she says no, she punches him (breaks her fucking hand. GOD THIS GIRL CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!) and runs home to Edward, but realizes she loves both Edward and Jacob. So, the lesson here? It actually isn't for the girls, but the boys made to read the books by their girlfriends. Lesson: Keep being sexually agressive with girls. Eventually we'll realize we're in love with you.
2) In this book, all Bella does is lead both Edward and Jacob along. Which Meyer says is okay, just as long as somewhere down the line you make a choice and feel badly. (Actually, you don't really have to feel badly. Why not just have a daughter and give it to the other one to fuck for life?) Which brings us to...
The hot mess of Breaking Dawn. And by hot mess I mean PIECE OF SHIT BOOK WHERE NOTHING (AGAIN) HAPPENS! NOT EVEN VAMPIRE SEEEEEX!
Okay, so in Breaking Dawn that dumb bitch gets pregnant (which is illegal). A bunch of other boring fighting/crap happens. During labor, Bella is being crushed to death by her baby (how lovely if she would have STOPPED IT THERE!!). So, what does Edward do? He rips open her uterus with his teeth and bites her on the vagina. Because, if he hasn't proven himself to be an upstanding, moral intact young undead vampire, a bite to the vagina will clear all your misgivings up. Well, she has the fucking baby, turns into a vamp, and what happens? WHAT HAPPENS?
Jacob imprints on her. Imprint is werewolf for boner-maker. So, now Jacob (who was a date raper in Eclipse) becomes a pediphile in Breaking Dawn. How lovely and...oh, by all means let him HOLD THE BABY, HIS FUTURE WIFE! But surely, this little baby must one day get a choice on whether or not she's really in love with Jacob, right? No. Oh. Well, fuck.
Well, apparently there was a war, but I don't remember. You know the only thing I do remember from this fucking book? (aside from the no VAMPIRE SEX) Renessme. Even as I write this I am twitching. Renessme. Renessme. RENESSME????? Somewhere in the world Albus Severus stopped crying because his NAME SUCKED SO BAD. What a dumb bitch!!! I could forgive you, Meyer, for the Mormon undertones, and the wait until marriage bullshit, and the fact that you made a weak, annoying character. But this is unforgivable. The funny part? I expected NO LESS from that dumb bitch Bella. She lives up to exactly what I thought she was! THE DUMBEST BITCH IN THE LITERARY WORLD!
So, I leave you with this: RENESSME!
However, I must ask, is this someone you really want to give a comic book character to? Female force, huh? Alright. I admit defeat.
Oh, by the way, who else is getting one?
WTF!!!!
Michella Obama, Princess Diana, and Oprah!
Ok. I am so angry I am about to smother the life out of a puppy. When I think of strong, powerful women, I think of these three above this. Not Stephanie Meyer.
1) Michelle Obama is our first lady! She is the woman behind the most powerful man in the world. She has been and will continue to do great things while in office, and even after office!
2) Princess Diana was the people's princess! She was one of the first people to realize and then announce that you can't catch AIDS with a handshake! She did so much charity work while alive and so many people benefitted from her!
3) And Oprah? Well, she's just Oprah. I mean, COME ON! She picked our president. We can all act like we voted and we had a choice, but no. She picked him. She said this is him. Vote for him. And we did! Oprah is so powerful she can banish you from Earth. In a good way. LOVE YOU, B!
Great. So, we have three women who looked to empower young girls, and one who wishes them to be beaten to death by their vampire spawn. Awesome.
Well, I'm off to get the shit beat out of me by my boyfriend so that he can prove how much HE LOVES ME!