Don’t Look Up.

Archive for January, 2010

Sloppy Seconds

You must feel like the woman I’m cheating on in my life as of recently, don’t you bloglings? I used to be so devoted to you, updated a few times a week, but I’ve moved on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still come back and you can have my sloppy seconds, but my new girlfriend is really pretty and friendly and she doesn’t care if I make short boring entries. Oh, how is this stunning new lady? Tumblr. Yes, yes, I know I’ve told you that I have one but I didn’t use it often, but I’m on it all the time now.

You can also blame my exams for making me study all the time so I couldn’t make entries. They’re almost done, I only have one left. They’ve been harder than I expected, so I’m hoping that I don’t fail and have to drop out of school and then live on the street with a cardboard box that I stole from a little kid who was using as a pretend rocket ship and then I’ll have to grow marijuana and sell it because I’m trading my food stamps for acid.

Oh, sorry, did I ramble on?

There should also be a layout change by the time you’re reading this, and if there wasn’t, congrats on being the creep who just refreshes my page until I make a post. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of fun this week.

Is it bad that blogging is actually hurting me? I decided to learn how to play the guitar today and I already play a lot of other instruments so it’s coming pretty easy but I keep trying to play an F chord but I can’t do it. I have these indents on my fingers from pushing the strings so far.

Does anyone watch Ugly Betty? It’s on after American Idol so I just keep watching the TV and I am starting to LOVE that show. I mean, the plot it OK, and the writing is OK, but the artistic-ness (is that a word?) is just amazing. The color contrast and the way that some colors are brighter is so enticing that I can’t look away.

But that’s what I’m going to do from this blog right now: Look away.

FF) Arkon, Ohio is the rubber capital of the world
Lost) 3×19

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Pour Kaitlina.

It may seem like I haven’t blogged in a while because I hate you with a burning passion, and although that may be part of the reason, the main reason is that I haven’t had anything to complain about. And things are still going well, but I’m here to blog because my friend Kaitlin told me to, and I can’t resist peer pressure. While in English class we were talking about how most actors that make it big only make it big because of their family name, and that led us to talking about just GOOD actors. Such as Johnny Depp.

Johnny Depp is really one of those people who can play any part you give them. From Captain Jack Sparrow to Sweeny Todd to The Mad Hatter.

OK. That’s really all I had to say. You’re welcome Kaitlin.

American Idol this season is really ridiculous, I’m not sure if I can continue to watch. It seems like it’s 75% people who can’t sing 24% people who can kind of sing and 1% of people who have really great voices that stand out. And I feel like it used to be 50% bad 25% OK and 25% amazing. I guess they already kind of used up all the good people. I should go audition. I’m pretty much the best thing on the face of the planet. It might actually be kind of unfair if I auditioned because I would just throw off the scale so much. I’ll do a favor to the world by staying home and making fun of everyone

Also, I’m adding a LOST episode count to the end of my blog because that show is amazing

FF) Google is my favorite company ever.
LOST: 3×6

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I’m currently at my friends house in Connecticut with three girls and they are watching a CHICK FLICK. Can you believe that? A CHICK FLICK. Ew. I can’t like chick flicks because I’m a MANLY MAN. GRRR. I like sports and cars and girls and flowers food and girls! How emasculating to be watching a movie that you know how it’s going to end from the moment it starts. Where are the explosions, huh? Where are the guns and the violence and the zombies? I guess it’s on a big TV so it’s justified.

Also back home my Kim Possible ringtone is original and a conversation started but EVERYONE has that ringtone here. It’s so confusing. Everyone else should change their ringtone because I deserve to keep it because I deserve everything. Also this is old people town. If you’re out past nine you’re the only card within miles. Unless you’re at walgreens. I was at walgreens, much later than anyone should be at walgreens, and there were old women EVERYWHERE. I have no reason why all of these old ladies were out this late but they were and it was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.

Fun Opinion Fun Fact ) LOST is one of the best TV shows of all time

PS) The amount of time I spend at Ihop is insane.

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My Sath Teacher Is Mtupid.

Oh, did I mess that up AGAIN? Me and my stupid typos.

Well bloglings, we have gained two new members to out cult group. In history I was with my friend “Taylee” and “Bottom Icher” and we were slacking, I mean researching, things on google. Eventually we typed in my name and they found this website. They read it and they fell in love with my witty humor and political correctness and they just couldn’t leave. So welcome them, we will do the dancing around the fire ritual later.

But while we’re talking about my sath teacher* let’s talk about my Eautiful Bnglish teacher**. For some reason she thinks that high school students aren’t slackers and she thinks it’s a great idea to pile on homework and make everything do the same day. Now, I understand why she would think that is a great idea, because it is. Well it is except for the fact that it’s not a great plan. It just means that I’m doing all of the work in one night. I’ve realized that in that class as long as it looks pretty and you use fun colors you’ll get a good grade.

Speaking of pretty colors, have you guys head of HD Sunglasses? In the immortal words of my french teacher: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” You can’t see the world in HIGH DEFINITION because you already see the world in REAL DEFINITION. God. I think the next step is bottled air and glasses that let you see the world in 3D.

FF) Goldfishes metabolism rely on the temperature of their water.

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