Deep Frying

Ok, so Adam and I are inspired to start deep frying whatever the fuck we want. Watching EpicMealTime kinda does this to us. Here's a few ideas:

• Banana
• Banana with peel
• Banana dipped in cake batter
• Cold pizza
• Cooked pizza
• Candy bars
• Candy bars dipped in awesome batter
• Pancakes
• Bacon strips
• and bacon strips
• and bacon strips
• and more bacon strips
• Muffins
• Cereal
• Twinkies dipped in something
• Oreos dipped in frosting
• Pot pies
• A turkey sandwich
• Cheese cubes dipped in batter
• Batter
• Honey buns
• Pigs in a blanket
• Spaghetti
• AND...chips

Ways to dick-slap the world

1. Win Apple from a poker game with Steve Jobs. Nuke it (or for you tards who don't know what I'm saying, nuke the company of Apple).

2. Win lottery. Go on the most popular news channel and report that you're dropping it from a blimp somewhere in the world. Purchase $1,000,000 of Monopoly money. Drop that instead.

3. Take over Google. Take their servers and melt them in order to make the frame for a makeshift Ferrari. Drive it off a cliff.

4. Become a diplomat. Get all of the world's countries together, united as one. Go into office. Shit on desk. While the leader is there.

5. Cure cancer. Everyone knows the government makes money on that.

6. Purchase Kenya for cheap. Buy expensive nuclear equipment. Nuke everyone else.

7. Vote for Obama.

8. Promote the Shake Weight.

9. Legalize the purchasing of marijuana. Make it illegal to smoke it.

10. Become president of a sugar packet company. Replace the sugar with anthrax.

11. Build new twin towers. Bomb them again.

12. Make all internet porn free. Replace them all with "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley.

13. Shut down all Call of Duty servers.

14. Make all contraceptive devices illegal.

15. Remove all bathroom stall walls.

16. Become friends with Rebecca Black.

All of these stupid ideas that probably didn't make you laugh are brought to you by myself, Jake Terry, and by good buddy Deven Guillote.

Why oh why?

This is one of those posts because tired.
Urgh.
I should be sleeping because William and I have a tournament for Yugz at around 11ish, and we have to leave around 8ish because of the drive. We are finally releasing our inner geeks. AND we can win stuff :D

Most importantly, I might actually win at something. This stupid bitch game is about the only damn thing I'm good at doing. That and my job. Otherwise, not much else, so this is actually important to me.

IT'S FUCKING IMPORTANT GOD

Anyways, I'm almost positive I might have messed with my deck recipe too much, but hey, it's been fine for now. Dragons are super cheap/rape/diabeetus. I enjoy winning. Probably because I'm not a winner.

A winner isn't me.

lol

Fuck Kish starts in a day. Dammit. I was enjoying not going to school.
Reasons why Kish is so much better than high school:

• more people to meet
• obviously more females to talk to AND possibly even relate to! Maybe even go as far as decided to use even go WANT to do look more like and date so!
• Drinking! Why use your time wisely when you can drink it away?
• Buttsex!...no wait...that's a bad example.
• Shit!

Reasons why these reasons are wrong:

• More people to meet? Sure, but who says I'm gonna like them?
• No matter how many females there are, they will always have excuses to why they can't date you. As far as I'm going to use even go want, I will just be a friend to everyone (maybe).
• I don't drink like college students.
• I was hoping for this one. Lots of it.
• Yes

Well some of these were correct afterall. Gee.

So the heritage fest here in Rochelle  sucked ass. Really, huge ass.

I'm practically out of ideas for this post now.

Bunnies

I need to leave

I'm starting to realize the source of my depression. I'm starting to realize what I truly need.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

I hate being here. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I'm one of those guys who actually considers the thoughts of others in a serious matter, stays up really late JUST to get a few laughs out of Tumblr, has a child's card game as his hobby, and is a huge video game geek. Nobody wants that here, so I need to leave. Soon.

Once college is done, I'm saving up money and leaving as soon as fucking possible. Yeah, some will actually miss me, but I really need to consider what's best for me. And where I plan on moving?

Heh. It won't be anywhere in Illinois.

I plan on moving fucking far away as possible. Of course I'll keep in touch with people, but I really do feel ever so worthless living here. It's as if I actually don't belong anywhere here at. all.

Of course I'll miss quite a few friends of mine. Will, Cory, Scott, other Scott, Deven, Keenan, and many others. But of course I'd miss Kelsy the most. It's upsetting to realize that I'd be leaving them behind, but it's what I need.

New places, a new life, a new future.

Me gusta

Why Rock Band 3 was a failure but a success for those who actually understand the concept of instrument peripherals.

The Rock Band and Guitar Hero series were made for many things, but the main thing they strive for in these games is simple: fun.

People have fun when they use plastic instruments to hit notes on a scrolling board. They don't need musical talent to complete a song on Guitar Hero. Just rhythm.

But those who do have musical talent cannot hold in their bitching about such music games. They want so much more than colorful buttons and a simple 4 pad 1 kick set.

They want real instruments. This was the downfall of Harmonix.

Rock Band may have been a rip-off of Guitar Hero, but they did a few things right. They made it more of a party game. Of course, Guitar Hero 5 was a better party game, but this isn't about that. Rock Band introduced drums as well as vocals. Vocals have always been around, but it was never integrated in a rock-based game. Rock Band could support up to 4 players. What better way to define "party game" than to do just that. But let's move on...

Rock Band 2 kept the same 4 player format, and they introduced a shit ton of new songs. Also, the original Rock Band for Xbox 360 allowed those who owned it to pay a 400 MSP price to rip most of the tracks off the disc and put them on your harddrive. Because of this, the Rock Band 2 library would be massive. Once again, they managed to keep it a party game. But with all good things, something will go wrong.

Rock Band 3 was when the shit hit the fan. Like I said above, those with musical talents bitched about how you couldn't use real instruments in the game. Well guess what, cockmongers? You got what you wanted. You managed to convince Harmonix to make guitar and drum peripherals to suit your needs. But for what? You don't even WANT them anymore. Harmonix made your instruments and now you don't even want them. The lesson here is that video game companies should only take advice from gamers who actually make sense. Harmonix should have stayed with their original concept: plastic instruments that aren't real instruments. Even if some gamers want playable instruments to use in the game and they bitch about not having them, they still buy the plastic ones because they have no choice. If they truly wanted something more complex and exciting, they wouldn't have bought the first peripherals at all. But it's already said and done. Harmonix is now losing money because they listened to all the gamers with chodes in just about every hole in their bodies. What could have been a decent, well-sold game turned into a disaster. Good job Harmonix for listening to the retards of the gaming world.

Good. Fucking. Job.

And good job for those who aren't satisfied with plastic controllers. If you want real instruments sooooo badly, why don't you learn the actual instrument and start a real band? Yeah, I play Rock Band more than I should, but I actually can play electric bass and drums. Also, I'm in a band. And I don't bitch about how unrealistic a video game is. That's why it's a video game. Derp.

Thunder only happens when it's raining

Song I'm listening to: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac
Current Feelings: a mixture of awesome because of bros and depression because I keep feeling this way for some shitty reason

I have some of the most fucked up dreams. Seriously. Shit gets real when I close my eyes.

I once fell asleep in study hall. Now, mind you, no one falls asleep in study hall (sarcasm.....), so this was a big thing. I recall me having an adventure in the Road Ranger play place. That was a fun experience.

I once dreamed that I hung myself.

I dreamed that I did it again.

I'm always late for work in my dreams. Yet I'm always on time in the real world.

I'm always late for class because I get caught up in the Rochelle high school gift shop.

Back in the apartment in Creston, I had various dreams of me living in an igloo.

Whenever I have a girlfriend in my dreams, we're always happy together. Everything is awesome and shit. Needless to say, the opposite happens in real life. Except that I'm forever alone. So I can't really say the opposite happens. Because I've actually been happy with 2 of the 3 girls I've dated.

I've killed people in my dreams. They were happy moments.

And yeah, that's about all I can remember. Not much excitement here.

My depressing post (again...I think)

Life is stupid. Let's put it that way. People live their happy fucking lives because it's almost like everything is handed to them in the simplest way possible. For some, life doesn't go on. Let me explain.

People claim that everyone has a purpose and that they will benefit society somehow, someway. Others also believe that everything happens for a reason. Damn right they do.

This is why suicide exists. Those who end up killing themselves obviously had no point in being here. At all. If they were meant to be here, something would fail, and they would be here doing something.

I'm in that stage of life. I hate most things. It's almost like I'm never happy. I try and find things that give bits of joy, but for what? So I can wake up the next day and be pissed off? No. It's stupid.

Basically, there's one thing keeping me alive, and I'll get to that point soon, but for now, time for ranting and shooting flames of fire and ice out my ass.

I've tried killing myself...with a baseball bat. That obviously didn't work. And I had to get help. Which didn't help. At all. I still sit here wondering when I'll finally just go out and shoot myself or something. These past few days I've been seriously considering to just end it all. I hate living with stupid emotional bullshit constantly running through my mind. I hate it. My friends always tell me "Just take your mind off things and it'll help." Ok, so I do, and they come right back like Jon Lajoie having lots and lots of sex with girls and shooting people down because he's a boy on the hood. It's as if something keeps me from trying to kill myself daily, and this point is true. I choose to stay alive because I know there's that one person I can talk to. About anything. I can't do that with other people. Because then they'll go through this speech about how life gets better. For some, it doesn't. And I have this odd feeling that I'll try my best to succeed, but life will t-bag me right in the face. Sure, there is life past the asscheeks. For some. And at this age, I can't judge what's going to happen, but that's the point: I can't judge what's going to happen. Will I end up succeeding? Will I fail? Who knows.

What I fear the most is being alone. I don't wanna live by myself. I want to live and succeed with someone by my side. Someone I love and care for. Someone I can just sit under the stars with and snuggle and whatever. Someone I can sit there and have a Magic duel with and be perfectly fine with it. And if people judge us? We'll kick them in the faces with our fists. We would enjoy ourselves without the consent of others.

But back on that point about my best friend...I choose to live because I know I can bitch about my family with her, tell her anything, because I know she doesn't judge me, and I don't judge her. We accept who we are, and because of that, I know I won't have to bottle up stuff and end up being an emotion wreck of a man/boy/robot. Yes, I'm a cyborg. And when we hang out, it's awesome. Anything from just sitting and talking to having a bro fest means the world to me. I can't get that kind of happiness from anyone else I know. The only time I'm truly happy is when I'm able to have that friend time with her because I know anything we do stays in my memory and gets stored in my happy bank. I HAVE A HAPPY BANK. IT'S KIND OF EMPTY. Yes, I love my friends, and we have good times, but sometimes, that doesn't help me.

My best friend is the reason I can live better because I can tell her everything. I'm still here because I know you'll miss me, and I can't let that happen.

Why I would make a terrible boyfriend

I'm pretty sure I would make a terrible boyfriend. I will back my shit up with balls of proof right here...

1. I care too much.
Girls love a guy who doesn't care about them. Girls are just so flattered when you can't even give a shit about them. For one, I actually care. Nope. Can't do.

2. Girls hate it when a guy wants to take them out on a somewhat decent date.
Never done it before because the female race kinda ignores my existence...but my idea of a pretty decent date includes dinner, a movie, and a walk in the park. Oh and I'd bring her flowers. GIRLS HATE IT WHEN GUYS GIVE THEM FLOWERS.

3. Girls hate affection.
I'm the type of guy who finds cuddling under the stars the perfect night...somewhat. And just holding her in my arms to mean the world to me. Fuck that shit. That's not good enough.

4. Girls hate compliments.
I compliment a bit too much, but hey. I try and at least say good things. Like instead of using the completely cliche word "pretty," I would refer to her as "beautiful." That's fucking stupid. Why would that mean anything?

5. Girls hate spending time with guys.
I love spending time with the one I care for. It doesn't matter what we do. I'll probably enjoy it anyways. But no. Spending time is gay.

If I'm wrong on ANY of these points, please bitch slap me.

Work

I love my job so much. Is it because my boss loves Will and I?

Partially.

I love working at the hospital. It's fun to give people shit. But friendly, of course.

Will and I thought it would be a good idea to hide in one of the carts so when Danni went to get it, it would be heavy as fuck. And she opens it, and we were like "Blarg."

It was priceless. Pam thought we were geniuses.

Then she was doing dishes, so I went over and poured a cup of ice water all over the trays so she would have to deal with it. Oh how I enjoyed it.

But anyhow, I still love working there. Even without giving people shit. The cooks are friendly towards the ones who get their jobs done, and I do just that. I actually do my best, and I get rewards for it. Obviously, I forget some things, but dammit, I'm human. I mess up. Just not as much as others do.

On another note, things are still good. Just kinda...blah. I'm already starting to miss her like crazy...and I hope it doesn't get in the way of us being best friends. She means more to me than she knows it...but I digress.

Also, my boss got Will and I chef hats :D
Work is so much more fun with them. We look awesome.

Not to end this post early or anything, but I really need to get my mind off things. I'm trying not to let this get to me, but it is, and it needs to stop.

Armor Mastery

I just realized that I hardly post as much on here. Maybe it's because I like to tank up a bunch of events and then post a large, epic, and erect post that exceeds so much awesome. No seriously, if this post was an erection, it would be like 4 feet long.

But I digress...shall I begin?

I am a Yu-Gi-Oh nerd. If you didn't know. I recently spent over $50 on Duelist Pack: Crow for a few reasons: collect Blackwings, tank good cards, and finally own one of the best synchro monsters in this card game, the Blackwing Armor Master. I have mastered the Armor Master, and I'm damn proud of it. I also got a Blackwinged Dragon in one of them.

I also decided that it would be so very smart to waste $40 at a tobacco shop. I got multiple cigars, a 100s case for my Swisher grape minis, and a corncob pipe. I also found mini Acids that were delicious as fuck. Ellisniss enjoyed one with me, and I knew at that moment that he was more of a man than Sarah Jessica Parker.

And here's a good one: I suggest a can of 7up and a bag of popcorn for this. I'll wait...

...
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...
...
...

I assume you got the stuff, so I'll begin. If you didn't know, I live ass out in the middle of nowhere. Civilization is a blur, and it's rather enjoyable. Well, I've found the joys of sitting in a garage until like 3 in the morning listening to Stone Sour and having some Black & Milds. Anyways, Joe and I were just sitting in my garage all casual and whatever the fuck at like 2:30 in the morning. He was playing my guitar and chewing on his pipe while I was changing songs on my iPod. I heard the dogs bark a little, and I heard some form of footsteps. Sure enough, I turn around to see the apparition of someone who does not at all look like a family member. At that moment, I thought I was gonna die. But I didn't. It was this random bitch who walked into my garage drunk off her ass, and she asked if one of us could drive her to Mendota. I asked where she was from, and she said that she walked from Peru. Peru is a fucking hour and a half drive. What the hell is she talking about? Anyways, we make up the fact that both of us are out of gas (which is bullshit because we filled up that day. Both of us. With semen). So she's like "Okay" and walks away. We were pretty sure that this just happened, and we go to tell my dad. She was still in my yard asking for a ride, so we booked it inside and woke him up. After startling the rabbit and knocking over random stuff, he went outside to tell her to keep hiking or we would call the cops. So she kept walking.

Funniest. Shit. Ever.

And for my final exciting event...

*drumroll*

I have AIDS.

Just kidding.

That would suck.

Anywho...I get a random text from one of my best friends asking to hangout. Yes, one of my best friends is a girl. Hard to imagine, amirite? So I practically jumped for joy because she is one of the greatest friends a guy could ask for. And we're enjoying the night because it wasn't blazing outside, and we get along like no other. We end up talking and stuff, and we both realized that we still like each other. And now we're going out again, and I couldn't be any happier. Kelsy Kuhnle, you are the most amazing girl out in this world, and I care about you more than you'll ever know.

And now that I'm done being adorable and lovable, I can make fun of Joe for his car dying.

lololololol

I can tribute stuff when Vicodin is present

I've been told the wonders of Vicodin recently. Kelsy told me that she was on it because she had her wisdoms yanked out like a fat kid on a leash who realized "CAAAAAKE!!!" and then ran like hell. That's pretty much what happens when they yank yer teeth. It's an epic disaster. Like, take the bombing of Hiro Shima. It doesn't even reach the pain of yanking teeth.

And that's why Vicodin was invented, to prevent future Japanese bombings aka teeth pulling from hurting.

Yeah.

If I ever take Vicodin, I'm imagining a world full of spirals and Charlie Sheen with his bi-winning. I WILL BE BI-WINNING. I also can see the transformation of a simple Chevy Cavalier to Optimus Prime Infinite Edition with super lazorz and Palmsy McFisty-Steve hands pushing you off a cliff so you can die while numbed. Nothing would happen because Vicodin has made you immortal. Therefore, you cannot die. Disregard the dying statement because I was lying the whole time.

I like Journey.

Another scene I imagine is me simply dancing and rocking out to Deadmau5's At Play Vol. 2, but because of the wonders of glorious Vicodin type 2-A (which doesn't exist as far as I know, but I'm bi-winning so it doesn't even matter), I'm actually prancing in a field full of daisies and thistles while wearing clown shoes and my graduation gown. It's also raining fire and various amphibians. During the onslaught of constant rain, which is completely normal because this shit happens on a daily basis, I set up a fire with two pedestals that contain a gas tube to feed a flame. On these pedestals, I place two finely grown rabbits to sacrifice and summon the ocean god Ktulu.

Yeah this is completely normal, and you should have no thoughts of me being mentally unstable.

My sophomore year murdered everyone

I had Rhet & Comp with Mr. Hagemann, and he assigned journals for us to write everyday for 10 minutes before we actually started class. He said to either put "Please read" or "Please don't read" at the top of each page so he knows not to read them if they are personal or whatever.

That was his first mistake.

He should've known that I had an explosive mind.

Let's just discuss a few I remember, shall we?

I talked a lot about boobs. I don't know why, but I did, and they were all great journals.

Most of the journals incorporated a lot of random topics that shouldn't go together, like "Man, this one chick has a nice ass. I wanna shit on Mr. Boyer's desk because he was a dick."

None of it made sense, but it brought lulz. And I was able to vent about things.

Also at the time, I was dating some stupid bitch who turned me into a tool. Needless to say, I have journals about depressing events with that, too. They were also random and dumb. And stupid.

"I bet if I died right now, she wouldn't care. I like boobs."

"She's better off dating someone who cares more than I do apparently. Mr. Hagemann is the best teacher ever."

I also recall a journal that went something like this...

"I'm so bored. I'm so bored. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire. Asses of fire....etc."

I was a terrible person my sophomore year, but I look back and laughed at my obsession with dirty journals that would make newborn fetuses cry. I am proud of my work.

Too bad I threw them all away so no one would see how terrible I was ._.

Jake.gif

I've recently discovered how to make gif animations, and I am damn proud of it. So far, I'm doing basic stuff just to get the feel for it, but soon, I will be making Godlike gifs that don't even. Here's the two I've made so far with credit going towards whoever took time to cut out Silent Magician lvl 4 and Deadmau5 for his helmet.

Nevermind on the mau5 helmet. Stupid shit ain't working for some stupid reason. Fuck.
I guess you could go check it out on my Tumblr. It's just kinda there somewhere.

At least enjoy my basic Silent Magician gif. It makes me happy in the pants.

Ignore that.

I guess the only good news I have is that I'm going to college and whatever.

God this post sucks ass...

Why plungers prove to be useful

Plungers are known to unclog your toilet when a family member/friend/dinosaur takes such a large shit that your toilet rejects the massive waste and decides that it isn't gonna flush.

Everyone knows you don't buy plungers for that reason! Silly people...

Plungers make great craft ideas!

Like so...

My Adv. Lit teacher found this in his room. We don't know who did it, but that person deserves mad respect for such a feat.

By the way, if you've read Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, you'd know what that atrocity is in my picture.

It is known as a Tralfamadorian, for those who do not know. One is described as having a body shaped like a toilet plunger with a hand on top and an eye in the palm. Genius, no?

Someone made this, and now I must find this person and shake his/her/it's hand. I am going to make one as soon as possible. It will grace my room with such mad awesome and other forms of sexual activity.

A man and his mau5

If y'all didn't know, I've been an emotional roller coaster for the past who the fuck cares. It's been a constant "Oh hey, I can't sleep, so it's going to be until 2 before I feel remotely tired. Also, there will be crying and shit."

Last night was different, however...

I enjoy some Deadmau5 at night. The bass is amazing. I have giant headphones, like these...









Actually, that's the exact pair I have, and they're damn sexy and produce nice bass. All his bass are belong to me. Anyways, I also have a 120 gig iPod classic that decided that it wasn't going to playback stuff in the right headphone, so I was all "Grrr rage"

My only source of mp3 playback is my old LG Chocolate Touch that's muffed in the screen, so the touch is off, but it gets the job done.

Also, my only way (so far) of getting my music on it is through Windows Media Player which, for some stupid fucked up reason, runs my CPU usage to "100%", which is bullshit because that isn't possible. With that said, my computer projects a digital middle finger to my entire being and decides it's going to be slow as Life Alert.

It was going to take more than that to keep a man from his mau5.

With many anger, tired, and angst, I finally managed to upload some mau5 onto said phone which took TOO DAMN LONG and decided that it was time for bed. Looking at the clock, it was 2:00. Yay. One night without pain and agony. And pain.

It was finally 3rd hour in school, and it was study hall. I wanted my mau5, and nothing was stopping me. I fucking listened to some mau5 and enjoyed the hell out of it. I felt proud, and it was as if I was achieving something more than I was actually achieving.

While listening to said mau5, I read some hyperbole and a half, and it was lulz. By the way, go follow her. Now. http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com

She goes by the name of Allie Brosh, and she is Jesus.

Now that I'm back to my topic, today was quite the good because of the mau5 and his beats that cause mass pregnancies in many 3rd world countries. I recommend his At Play Vol. 2. It is rave.

And that's why my life is slowly but surely steering back into the right direction.

I am mortal and going to die

This weekend has proved a few things. One of them is how people enjoy wearing gray hoodies at night and walking on the side of the road within nicking distance of a car. If it wasn't for Joe yelling "DUDE! LOOK OUT!" there would've been a human nachos bell grande splattered all over the side of my car.

This also explained why people smoke and inhale.

Let me explain.

I smoke cigars, but I've always puffed them because inhaling was an impossibility for me. If I even attempted to inhale, a Mt. Saint Helens of coughing and dying would erupt out of my lungs and cause me to leak tears of pain from it. Needless to say, I stayed with puffing.

But recently, I've been trying because it's awesome of some sort.

And since last night, I now understand the relaxation tobacco gives. After almost hitting two Mexicans with my car, the stress levels skyrocketed. I've always felt relaxed because the cigars I smoke are usually grape, and the scent sends me to a world of relaxation and Ozzy Osbourne, but since I've adapted to inhaling, it gives me a Buzz Lightyear of awesome and achievement of something more than I'm actually achieving.

Luckily, I'm smart enough to not inhale all the time. I just do it because I can. Poor reasoning, I know, but at least I'm 18 and DON'T GIVE A FUCK.

Also, I found it fun to play Hell's Bells by AC/DC in the church building yesterday with Joe, and go figure one of the members told me not to play anything AC/DC, Ozzy, etc. So, being me, I start playing Let There Be Rock by AC/DC because I'm a smartass, and I don't give a shit. Everyone judges me anyways. They think I'm a "bad kid" who drinks and smokes pot and whatever. I've never done any of that. I've never tried drugs. I smoke cigars. That's it.

But oh well. I try to be a good person. Sorta.

Left 4 Blog

Once again I find myself sitting in Deven's basement having a jolly good time. These are the days I treasure the most. Just Scott, Deven, Buttney, 38 illegal immigrants, an Alot, and of course, I, are sitting in a kidney-shaped (kinda?) furniture clusterfuck. Right now, the old memories of Left 4 Dead are returning, and boy do I miss that game.

How could I forget the shitty AI system, zombies pumped with bullets yet still slapping you, and poor level design?

I'll also throw in shitty dialog and glitches. It's a fun time. For example:

Zoey: "Weapons here. Wea-wea-weapons here weapons here wea-wea-weapons here."

Me: "I HEARD YOU YOU STUPID BITCH THERE'S SOME DAMN WEAPONS SOMEWHERE IN THE AREA. GAWD!"

The game was meant to have fun, and I love that game and it's ways to have fun, but I DON'T GIVE A FU-

Actually I do give a fu-

Regardless of minor glitches, Left 4 Dead will always be a favorite game of mine.

Of course the game WILL kill you in various ways JUST to make sure you aren't superior to the AI system.

EVEN THOUGH A FECES-THROWING MONKEY BITCH IS BETTER THAN THE AI.

BLAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHGHJFJIEOWVJKL I think this post has been killed. I'm gonna try and play some L4D.

The little achievements I make nightly

I have a paper due: rough draft due Friday, final draft due Wednesday. Needless to say, I'm probably gonna fail the class. Guess who got some done today?

Not me.

Lately, I've been achieving nothing at night except for posting shit on Tumblr and Facebook. So far for at least two weeks, I've been staying up until like 2 almost in tears over Bre. Some of those nights were terrible. But lately, I've been feeling a sense of achievement in every other class. Adv. Lit can lick my sac. And I actually feel like I can go to bed at a reasonable hour without petty, unmanly tears. All I have to think about is Tifa from FFVII and how fucking hot she is.

I could also listen to Phil Collins, Lady GaGa, Stone Sour, Tool, and other awesome.

Yeah I think I'll do that from now on.

Here's an example of how I achieve nothing:

"I think I'll do some pages for Adv. Lit! YEAH! I'M ON TOP OF THE FUCKING WORLD!!!"

*sees Facebook tab*
*sees Tumblr tab*
*sees electric bass*

Nothing gets done after that.

I might have ADD. I'm not sure. Waffles sound pretty good right now.

I'm making chicken nuggets and they're FUCKING GREAT.

I think this post just might be done tonight.

I'll end with some cyber tits ( . Y . )

Life is Pam

That's right, folks. Life is so very Pam.

For those of you who don't know Pam, she's the greatest cook I work with. Ever.

She gives great advice. Anything that upsets me pisses her off. She cares for her workers. I told her what was bothering me lately, and some of the things she said was...

"She don't know what she wants. She just used you to try and make her ex boyfriend jealous."
"If you EVER take her back I'll kick your ass!"
"You don't deserve to be treated like that. You're a good guy, and she treated you like shit."

My self esteem grew a bit after the motivation of Pam herself. I mean, I didn't exactly agree to EVERYTHING she said, but most of it sounded right to me.

On that note, WORK WAS SO FUCKING TERRIBLE AND BUSY IT WAS BLAH.

ADV. LIT ISN'T HELPING BECAUSE DR. DAVY P. IN THE HOUSE REJECTS MY OUTLINE GAWD.

IT'S HOT AS PISS OUT HERE IN BUTTFUCK, EGYPT.

I NEED MOUNTAIN DEW!!!

Anyways...this post is not very entertaining tonight. I must drown out the world with Phil Collins and other soothing artists, like Slayer and Children of Bodom, in order to achieve awesome again. IF I ever had it in the first place.

I cannot do simple things, like writing

Alright, so I wrote a bit of my paper. It's aight.

I can't really concentrate at the moment. There's this thing about Phil Collins that won't let me write at the very instant. I must take time to enjoy his glorious man-voice and slowly fondle myself to the beat of the drums.

Ignore what I just said.

Anyways, I'm also distracted at finding out that I WAS a tool. Just someone to fill the void. Fuck. Out of all people, this WOULD happen to me. Oh well. I have to get over things.

Like my dad said: "The more you learn about women, the more you enjoy your car and your bass."

He's so fucking right. I played my bass with distortion and just went with the music. I have never felt better.

Now I end up on this post, telling all of you about it. Ain't it grand?

But oh well.

OH. OH.

Also, it's my friend Kelsy's birthday today, and I want anyone who reads it to give a shout. And I'm being serious. You don't even have to tell her. Just shout right where you are at. She's probably the most kickass girl you'll ever meet. She's like one of my best friends, and I'm glad I met her.

Welp, that's about it for tonight. Hope you all have such a good FUCKING SLEEP AND HAVE DREAMS ABOUT ROCKY BALBOA SHOVING HIS MAN MEAT UP YOUR ASS AND...

I'm done.

Adv. Lit is the purest definition of chaos evar

Yeah. I really need to start working on my term paper. I also need to find a way to write 2500 words on how Hemingway uses the marlin in "The Old Man and the Sea" as a SLIGHT symbol, not a whole fucking symbol-whore of an animal. Some authors do intend for certain characters/items to be completely symbolical. THIS AIN'T IT.

I'm coming up with a playlist of calming/awesome/thought inducing songs to make myself travel in the vast, deserted thinking my brain tends to spew out.

I also need this music for many reasons. I need to get over this breakup. Now. Before it eats me alive. And stuff.

I'm realize others can do so much more than I can and obviously care so much more. I guess I could be the fall-back guy.

IT'S ALSO GREAT TO FUCKING IGNORE ME AND MAKE IT SEEM LIKE I DON'T EXIST. YES, I'M A PIECE OF SHIT. WHY CAN'T YOU TELL THAT TO MY FACE? GODDDDDDD

I guess I was just a tool to satisfy the empty void you had.

WOOPS did I just say THAT out loud!

Anyways...sorry...I must be working on my paper.

Just remember...you're a wreck. An accident. Forget the freak, you're just nature.


I love Corey Taylor's monologues. 

There's a difference?!

Apparently so.

My friend Deven has informed me that "fucking" and "making love" are two different things. Let me explain:

"Fucking" is defined as "thrusting forcefully," as in wrecking any girl's innocence within two seconds of intercourse.

"Making love" is defined as "taking it slowly and being gentle," as in handling a newborn kitten; you can't just go hard. Either go cute or go home.

Let me explain how we got on this topic:

We're watching Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, and the scene with Tifa comes on. Well, the first comment I make, since you know, I'm a guy, is "Dude, she's hot as fuck."

I'm allowed to make unnecessary comments about Final Fantasy chicks, aight?

And Deven is all "Yeah, Scott said that for the longest time."

Then I start remembering Yuna, Rikku, and Paine from Final Fantasy X-2. Yuna and Rikku defined what super-fantasy-hot-shit was. Paine was rather....the dud of the game. 'nuf said.

Then I mentioned the fact that if I was in the game, I would destroy Yuna.

Then he made the comment of "You can't just fuck her, dude, you would have to make love first."

What?

So yeah, there's a difference. It's good to know I guess.

And I'm showing extreme disrespect towards fantasy chicks, not actual girls in real life. Then again, I'm probably an asshole, according to every female who isn't close to me.

I think it's time to end this post now.

YAY FIRST ACTUAL POST AND SHIT

You want Asian food right now.

If you believe this statement and actually want Asian food, you might consider that statement to be a disease because of how easy it is to catch it.

YOU'RE FUCKING WRONG.

There's nothing wrong with Asian food. There's nothing disease-like about it. Diseases are bad, and by saying that my statement is a disease, you're bringing a negative connotation to it.

I DON'T DESERVE THAT SHIT

Think of it as a "pleasant plague." See? By adding the word "pleasant," it appears as if you wanting Asian food due to me saying it is a good thing. Disregard plague, acquire Asian food.

I mean, you could refer to the impulse of wanting Asian food due to my statement as "wonderful warts."

Actually, scratch that. Never refer to that as "wonderful warts." Ever.




Ever.



Dammit...I want Asian food now....

YAY NEW BLOG AND SHIT :D:D:D:D:D

Yeah, I've been encouraged to create one because people will obviously kill several infants JUST to read my interesting stories and whatever. It's a good thing I've got too much time on my hands. Otherwise...nah I'd probably still have a blog.

Well, there's not much to say right now. I must go promote the hell out of this now so people will actually take in the idea that I EXIST AND SAY GREAT THINGS!!! and stuff.