Monday, October 12, 2009

"This is a really weird, sticky pen."

Don't ask. Actually, do ask.

My friend just said that. She couldn't get it out of her hand. I have no idea why, it must have some sort of diabolical quality which makes it... diabolical.

As a result, there is no result.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Less Stupidity = ?

Let's face it. Acting less stupid often results in making you look more stupid. With that in mind, let's cut the excess b.s. and get right to the point.

Yesterday, my brother and I were in a car accident. It was pretty mild, but I did come out of it with a busted nose. Goodness knows what would've happened had our car been on the freeway.

But I view it as a blessing. It breaks what I call "the mundane."

Here's the definition in Jon Paz's New and Old World Dictionary Which Primarily Consists of Words People Don't Know:

Mundane, The (noun) 1. The ordinary routine of life.
Synonyms: rut, daily groove, normality.

Not that there's anything against normality. In fact, I would recommend it for some strange people. But it's the over-normality I'm talking about. You know, the people that get up at 6:45 every morning, go to Starbucks at 7:30, order a 3 shot Vanilla Latte, and get to work at 8:00. They hit Jason's Deli everyday at exactly noon, and leave work at 6:00. They go home, watch tv, and then they go to sleep.

Everyday.

I find that The Mundane is like a bubble. The longer we are in it, the thicker it becomes, shutting us off from the other aspects of life. Sometimes it takes a car accident, a tragedy, or a giant ape ripping through New York to pop these thick, overgrown bubbles. It's not that these are always bad, they just take our sight off the prize, the focus from our lives, the sparkle in our eyes. The spectrum, once vividly colorful, becomes blurred in the constant mayhem of order, and in a world where we must learn to live, we live to live.

Get it? Now, think about it, are you trapped by a bubble? Am I, sitting here right now, typing this blog, trapped in a bubble?

The truth is always, to some extent, yes. We need to pop these things! They trap us. Some people like the security, but then, in the moment of crisis, they are the ones panicking, the ones that cause more trouble than good.

How can we rid ourselves of The Mundane?
Here are a few tips, categorized from easy to hard:


1) Watch the news every once in a while, don't let it become your mundane.
2) Get up a little earlier and watch the sun rise. It's rewarding.
3) Drink your coffee without creamer and sugar.
4) Ask people something extraordinary.
5) Bike somewhere at night.
6) Exercise your talents in new ways.
7) Go camping in the rain.
8) Love somebody.
9) Do something crazy alone.
10) Take a trip around the country. Hitchhiking.

And last but not least:

11) Go streaking.

Okay, maybe not.


Any more suggestions? Leave a comment!

Peace!

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

... Where in the World are the Worldly Ways of the World Taking Our World?

I don't know. It was an attention getter. Don't ask. Anyways.

We are in the midst of inner turmoil, and guess what? It's internally in the middle of inside us.

The Ameri-Franco Alliance was an alliance in which France and America allied to agree that American and France were now allied.

Considering we are no longer at home here, why do we feel a subtle sense of feeling at home?

If you've made it this far without being confused, can you count how many brain cells you've lost?

This box contains MAGIC!
\______________/
\--------------------/
\----MAGIC!-------/
\-------------------/
\-------------------/
\-------------------/
\_____________/
So. I and a friend are starting a new blog soon. It'll be awesome.

I'll catch ya on the flip side.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Spaghetti Monster Event

That's right. If you're reading this, you may be asking, "What in all of God's beautiful green grassed,
cow grazed,
hay manufactured,
agriculture industry stimulating,
91% ORGANIC (still, surprisingly),
globally warming earth is the

Spaghetti Monster Incident?*

In point of fact, that is EXACTLY what I am wondering.

So, this marks the kickoff of the first, yes, FIRST!

Contest on my blog. Guess what? You could win a fantastically amazing prize by coming up with the best answer to this burning question!†

Here are the Rules:

1) Post it as a comment to this blog.
2) You can use any quote I've ever made.
3) You must allow me to post the winning and runner up guess on my main blog.
4) You have to be cool.
5) You must use a keyboard to type the answer.
6) Number four is not a rule, just a suggestion.
7) Scratch #4 and #6.




*No purchase necessary. Some restrictions may apply. Applicant subject to boredom due to constantly reading fine print. Come to think of it, what is a spaghetti monster?

†Prize may not be cool. There may be no prize. If you are the only one who enters, BOOYAH! Someone's actually reading this.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Sharif Don't Like It?

Nah nah nah... Rocking the Casbah! Rockin' the Casbah!

Nah nah nah nah... nah nah nah nah... Hey hey hey, goodbye.

Nah nah nah...? What's with these "nah's"?

Today is Classic Rock day. Aerosmith and The Clash and Poison and all them goodies.

Yeah. So that pretty much concludes today's blog. Yep. Sorry. Maybe I'll feel bad and write something good later.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ramen is a Miracle Food

It is. You know it is. Really, just take my word for it.

If you've never eaten it, go buy some. They're like 15 cents a piece. Not on sale. Also, if you've never eaten it, where in God's beautiful green grassed, cow grazed, hay manufactured, agriculture industry stimulating, 91% organic (still, surprisingly), climate changing world do you live?

Perhaps Mars, or maybe Russia, where the KGB will kill you if you have food.

Be it the former or the latter, where did you get internet access? Really?
Let's get off the topic of ramen.

Once again, being monsoon season and all here, it rained again. Today it was, in the most extreme form of the word, DUMPING.

Not like guys do to girls.*

I mean in in the sense that it seemed a supernatural force with a giant fire hose decided to spray my humble home. Rather house. Definitely "house."

We'll get to that another time. At any rate, I had a very interesting conversation today. It went as follows...

Her: "Hey buddy."

Me: "You know how I dislike being called, 'buddy.'"

Her: "Sorry about that."

Me: "It's okay, you didn't know."

Her: "Uhm..."

Me: "So..."

Her: "So I think this is not really a very engaging, funny, or in any other way interesting."

Me: "Holy... did you just say that? It's like you were narrating our conversation for people to read later."

Her: "They probably won't notice."

Me: "Are you talking to me?

Her: "Today was ridiculous. Mood: Chill. Current Music: Some annoying guy."

Me: (Looks at camera) "What a waste."

Her: "What?"

Me: "Don't start."

"K."

Anyways, I found out she wasn't talking to me. Uneventful day, besides the rain. Good. Night.







*If a guy dumps a guy, it's about the as socially acceptable as, say, getting castrated.†

†If you are a eunuch, I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend you.˚
˚If you are a eunuch, please let me know why you have a will to live.


Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Incredimonkey??

So today was weird. It was pretty much the most packed full day of the last month. Stuffed. Like those nasty green peppers that your mom always tried to make you eat when you were younger. You know what I mean. Speaking of full and moms, isn't it strange how Moms are always chock- full of strange aphorisms that don't have an ending. Like,
"Preparation is the key."

To what, may I ask? Life, knowledge, the pursuit of happiness?

Now it's time for the greek phrase of the day.

Novus ortus deficio mens mentis. Or, put more simply, Bardus.

Lemme give you a hint, it's what I am.


It just started raining outside. I am sitting by the screen door, taking in the smells and sounds of this downpour. The scent is swirling around me; caressing my nose until I can no longer think about what I'm doing. The wind created by the falling droplets of water are pushing air that is wafting through the door. Wrapping a pleasant mixture of cool and warm air, it's just what my tired fingers need for rejuvenation. It's like getting high off of nature.


Fantastic.
I think I'm gonna go jump around in the rain. Catch you later.


Monday, September 7, 2009

Reading is Believing?

If you were reading this, (hypothetically speaking, considering NO ONE reads this) and I graphically depicted to you how the world would explode in 2 days, you'd either think I had too much free time on my hands, or I was crazy.

Fancy that, considering I am neither. Unfortunately, people buy into these things seemingly all the time. Take forwarded emails. Millions of people everyday get these trashy weird-fonts-and-strange-colored-lettered emails. Maybe the person who makes these just figured out their computer. Maybe they're a terrorist, meaning to stir up mass chaos through horribly researched points. There are the four kinds of forwarded emails.

1) The Freaker.
In these ones, the author, (whoever they are) always tries to scare you. Be it that Obama is going to ban life, or that the Swine Flu is fabricated by the medical industry, they try to frighten you into such a panic that you will: "Send to 20 friends if you care."

2) The Heartburner.
In this particular type of forward tries to be heartwarming. They are usually "based on a true story." Whatever THAT means. Unfortunately, to ruin these stories' credibility, the photos are usually too good to be taken while "In progress of story."

3) The Teenager.
These usually consist of asking you random questions about previous love lives. At the end, they tell you to "Send to 20 friends and the love of your life will call you today."

Really?

Never works for me.

4) The Faither.
These are like the Heartburner, but with a Faith-based message.

'Nuff said.



It surprises me how gullible people are to these things... It kinda makes me want to blow up the world.

In 2 days. heh heh.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Who I Am Makes A Difference?

Today's writing's going to be little different. Definitely a more solemn note... less stupidity, etc.

I just want to take time to appreciate everyone that has impacted me. Big or small, good or bad, every single one has changed me in one way or another.

In the same way, I realize how I affect people. Some people are weirded out, some people are happy, as well a collage of other emotions/feelings/beliefs.
It pays to take the time to think about how what we do changes the people we seldom react with.

How much more does it affect those we are close to?

We need to be caring people because:

1) What goes around comes around.
2) God tells us to!
3) We can never fully see how what we do impacts others.

Anyways, that's pretty much all I have to say today. I encourage you to think about it a little bit.

Now I gotta go help my Mom with some dishes...

Friday, August 28, 2009

I'm Definitely Crazy

So this is the contest winning description I wrote for... something? Nobody really knows what it is, so... yeah.

But if you don't believe me, go look for yourself.

http://www.kgrt.com/contest.php

Anyways, here's my description.


It's a punching bag, used in the Greco-Roman period (Circa 10 B.C.- 52 A.D.)
to train fighting Syrian Aadrvarks. In detail, it was often tied to a
fast moving chariot, after which the Aardvarks must chase, only to be caught
up by the very UFO that crashlanded a millenium and a half later in Roswell,
NM. It was meant to increase agility. Unfortunately, it took the Romans
about 157 cubits and 4 ticks on the sundial before they realized that the
aliens weren't going to bring it back. That's the real reason Brutus
stabbed Julius Caesar. Then the aliens experimented on the package for a few
hundred years. Somehow it ended up in Great Britain, and became pierced by a
sword. Nobody could remove the sword, and in history, it has been confused
with a rock (old english didn't really have a word for "Whatchamacallit.")
Then, a young boy named Arthur pulled it from the rock one day, and
apparently every went bonkers over the fact that he had pulled
it out, so they made him king. In the confusion, the aliens managed to
abduct it again. Fast tracking to 1492, Columbus discovered it floating in
the water nearby his ship, the Santa Maria. He picked it up, and found that
it had a certain magical effect, somehow drawing them to India, or as we
know now, America. Not 30 minutes later, the lookout spotted land. Nobody
knows how the aliens got it this time. A few hundred years later, the
CIA found the package aboard the UFO. It was in Area 51, until Bigfoot
escaped with it last year. The whereabouts were unknown until KGRT found it
in their closet, not knowing what it was they held a contest. I'm sure they
didn't expect that they'd get this guess, assuming they read this far.


Crazy, right? Yeah, I have too much free time, oh well.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

There's a hole in the bottom of the sea? (Constant Digression)

Who comes up with these kid's songs?

Honestly, why would anyone take the time to psychologically invent a chasm in the bottom of the sea, and then randomly decide to write a children's song about it? Do we need to sing about people putting random items into this abyss? Reminds me of "Kidz Bop."

Put succinctly as the YouTube personality Nigahiga says, "Now you can listen to all of the popular songs you hate sung by kinds who make it even worse!" Why do they try? Is there a margin of 1 million "kidz" who buy these, forcing them to produce, what 24 of these "records?"

Kinda like Miley Cyrus. I mean, why does she even try? We all know she doesn't write her own music, so why not hire somebody with a good voice to sing it? I wonder if she is in cahoots with those "Kidz."

Which brings me to my next point. Why does anybody try?

We all know that somebody is going to bash us behind our back for anything we do, so why do we try so hard?
You can beat me, blackjack me, throw me into a meatgrinder, and the fact that my arm is missing would grieve me just a bit, but other than that, I'd be trying not to care. Right.

Reminds me of Kanye, you know, "How could you be so heartless?"

Who invented shuttershades? How incredibly impractical can you make simple appliances to reduce sunlight damage to your eyes? Like Aviators. Pilots can't fly with sunglasses! Unless they're our boy Jamie Bond. But even then, the only person who would fall for it would be the strange foreign girl he's... anyways.