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!