Getting off this stupid computer. GAAH!
Starting a webcomic. Problem is, it's freakin' expensive...
Painting something. But I kinda suck. Drawing's where it's at.
Celebrating New Years. This I am doing.
Kicking this blog off for real. This I hopefully am doing as well.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Languages/Accents I wish to learn, and why
1) Scottish. Because you know it's cool to say "Watch yer bahookie fer a blootered bampot wit a skian-dhu or ye'll git inta a fecht an' he'll give ye the malky" when you're talking about getting stabbed to death.
2) German. It just sounds plain awesome. Definitely one of the coolest foreign languages.
3)Russian. It's an unusual language, and it's a damned fun one, too. Plus, Charlie speaks Russian.
2) German. It just sounds plain awesome. Definitely one of the coolest foreign languages.
3)Russian. It's an unusual language, and it's a damned fun one, too. Plus, Charlie speaks Russian.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Because I'm bored...
... my epic poem for Lauren's class.
Come, ye thanes, and gather close
To hear the mighty tales of mouth
Of I, the living mountain, the giant of a man:
My life and leisure upon the Earth.
The story of my triumphs and my stubbornness of heart.
I am a man of many nations:
Born British by blood, and also
American by land, I can travel at my leisure
Through Europe or the States, a status very welcome
So that I have the freedom of flying to other
Countries. The courtesy of life to grant
Such a boon is unwarranted, but is grand and useful
For it grants me many cultures to witness
Should I choose.
My father, George, fixer of satellites
Is possessed of great wit and pursues noble ventures:
To keep the large house of the company of Boeing
With safe longboats to drift through the sky.
Of such a spirit, there was no doubt
That the thane of protection was born of strong blood.
And born was he of John, my grandfather, hero
Beyond doubt, champion of wars and battles.
In distant China, he trained the troops
Some sixty years ago to fight
For freedom against invasion, strife, and woe.
When war came to his war-thanes,
he fought his foes with strength and might
And the slayer of the enemy sailed home.
My mother’s house: so grand a hearth
Was never seen upon the sea.
Hailing from the land of Britain, the bravest
To set forth. My mother, she is skilled and bold.
She plans the plains and mountain sides,
The forests and the fields. But the painter of the world
Would not settle for paltry things
And the leader of her land gave her mead halls to plan out.
Her house extends across the globe
for clearly if a larger clan existed
The world would have no room for man.
Finally in place but never in force,
My younger kinsman and newest clansmen,
My sister, Fiona, joyful and jovial.
So bright a spirit was never brought
Upon the world. Never will she cease
Her happiness, immunity to evil
Through her cheer and thoughtful ways.
Such are the deeds of my legendary lineage
And fail to surpass them, I certainly do not.
When I, the colossal being, walk
The lands tremble. The legend who is known
As Paul Bunyan is barely a midget,
Nothing compared to my awesome altitude.
A towering figure so tall is hardly
Possible, yet here I stand with height;
Unparalleled in stature, matchless in size.
Yet it is not just in standing where I reign supreme:
So, too, is the thane of many talents excellent
In a multitude of measures. The sword, a weapon
Of a warrior, is familiar to me, a sword thane
Of great skill. Once in a swordfight
With a foul ogre, fiend of evil,
My sword, my shining blade of steel
pierced armor deemed impervious.
A thousand thanes who sought to slay
The beast in armor thick as bone
Could not cut its armored hide,
Yet with one flick of my sword
I grasped a gap and I drew blood.
Then time stopped and we stood still
As he realized the duel was done
And I emerged the victor, the vice
Of his fate.
Such is my fame
That the world was aware of my approach
And the land of Northridge was so nervous
That it shook itself apart.
The clans claimed this to be an earthquake,
But they cannot cover up
The fact that I am feared by all.
I also am a thane of theater,
New to the field, I nonetheless stand firm.
A brace of shows is all I can brandish,
Yet my skill is rising skyward, my abilities are strong.
All types of beings I have been:
From plundering pirate to pugilistic plebe,
Many roles are mine to brandish.
And though I may not yet thrash other thespians,
I learn quickly.
Yet here my exploits, they do not end,
For also an artist of tremendous talent
Am I, and I use many utensils to achieve
Masterful works and wonders of art.
Nearly since time began, I knew
I wished to draw, and I learned, through my wisdom,
To draw the beasts and worlds that were deep
Within my mind. In many years
I drew many things, some real, some dreams.
One year though, my yearn went further,
And carried me to the land of OTIS, where cavernous
Mead halls of art and media
were. There I learned many ways
And for a summer, my gifts grew
And until the end of that era
That knowledge and those skills will stay with me.
So, mighty thanes, great majesties,
You have heard my tales and talents.
My life is laid before you as a story
Fit for kings. Now I can
Ask of you for entry, faithful
In my might. So will you,
Great thanes, let me through,
Or do I have to break the door down?
Come, ye thanes, and gather close
To hear the mighty tales of mouth
Of I, the living mountain, the giant of a man:
My life and leisure upon the Earth.
The story of my triumphs and my stubbornness of heart.
I am a man of many nations:
Born British by blood, and also
American by land, I can travel at my leisure
Through Europe or the States, a status very welcome
So that I have the freedom of flying to other
Countries. The courtesy of life to grant
Such a boon is unwarranted, but is grand and useful
For it grants me many cultures to witness
Should I choose.
My father, George, fixer of satellites
Is possessed of great wit and pursues noble ventures:
To keep the large house of the company of Boeing
With safe longboats to drift through the sky.
Of such a spirit, there was no doubt
That the thane of protection was born of strong blood.
And born was he of John, my grandfather, hero
Beyond doubt, champion of wars and battles.
In distant China, he trained the troops
Some sixty years ago to fight
For freedom against invasion, strife, and woe.
When war came to his war-thanes,
he fought his foes with strength and might
And the slayer of the enemy sailed home.
My mother’s house: so grand a hearth
Was never seen upon the sea.
Hailing from the land of Britain, the bravest
To set forth. My mother, she is skilled and bold.
She plans the plains and mountain sides,
The forests and the fields. But the painter of the world
Would not settle for paltry things
And the leader of her land gave her mead halls to plan out.
Her house extends across the globe
for clearly if a larger clan existed
The world would have no room for man.
Finally in place but never in force,
My younger kinsman and newest clansmen,
My sister, Fiona, joyful and jovial.
So bright a spirit was never brought
Upon the world. Never will she cease
Her happiness, immunity to evil
Through her cheer and thoughtful ways.
Such are the deeds of my legendary lineage
And fail to surpass them, I certainly do not.
When I, the colossal being, walk
The lands tremble. The legend who is known
As Paul Bunyan is barely a midget,
Nothing compared to my awesome altitude.
A towering figure so tall is hardly
Possible, yet here I stand with height;
Unparalleled in stature, matchless in size.
Yet it is not just in standing where I reign supreme:
So, too, is the thane of many talents excellent
In a multitude of measures. The sword, a weapon
Of a warrior, is familiar to me, a sword thane
Of great skill. Once in a swordfight
With a foul ogre, fiend of evil,
My sword, my shining blade of steel
pierced armor deemed impervious.
A thousand thanes who sought to slay
The beast in armor thick as bone
Could not cut its armored hide,
Yet with one flick of my sword
I grasped a gap and I drew blood.
Then time stopped and we stood still
As he realized the duel was done
And I emerged the victor, the vice
Of his fate.
Such is my fame
That the world was aware of my approach
And the land of Northridge was so nervous
That it shook itself apart.
The clans claimed this to be an earthquake,
But they cannot cover up
The fact that I am feared by all.
I also am a thane of theater,
New to the field, I nonetheless stand firm.
A brace of shows is all I can brandish,
Yet my skill is rising skyward, my abilities are strong.
All types of beings I have been:
From plundering pirate to pugilistic plebe,
Many roles are mine to brandish.
And though I may not yet thrash other thespians,
I learn quickly.
Yet here my exploits, they do not end,
For also an artist of tremendous talent
Am I, and I use many utensils to achieve
Masterful works and wonders of art.
Nearly since time began, I knew
I wished to draw, and I learned, through my wisdom,
To draw the beasts and worlds that were deep
Within my mind. In many years
I drew many things, some real, some dreams.
One year though, my yearn went further,
And carried me to the land of OTIS, where cavernous
Mead halls of art and media
were. There I learned many ways
And for a summer, my gifts grew
And until the end of that era
That knowledge and those skills will stay with me.
So, mighty thanes, great majesties,
You have heard my tales and talents.
My life is laid before you as a story
Fit for kings. Now I can
Ask of you for entry, faithful
In my might. So will you,
Great thanes, let me through,
Or do I have to break the door down?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Today... (pt 1)
... I was told that I had admitted to murder on my blog. Despite not being true, I'm now going to make it true.
Here is my admission to murder.
So I was walking down the streets this morning at 6:40 PM, when suddenly I saw pass a cottonwool cloud across the street. Then I thought to myself, "hey, I've never seen a cottonwool cloud before", so I crossed the street to go look at it. I did not cross the street at a crosswalk, I crossed in the middle of the street. And so a car hit me. And the car bounced off and flew over me, landing in a crumpled heap which then exploded. While not exactly murder, I did laugh at them afterwards, and as it turns out laughing at an exploded car with dead corpses in it at 6:41 PM in the morning is apparently a major felony in 76 of the 43 states. So 15 minutes later, I found myself in front of the Supreme Court. Don't ask me how I got there in fifteen minutes, all I know was I got lost and then found myself. And I was in front of the Supreme Court. So they said: "Hey, we're so high up in our wooden stand thingies that we have trouble seeing you. So you're off the hook this time." And I was like "Sweet!"
So I walked outside and found myself in a cardboard box labelled: "Caution: Keep Away From Fire. Highly Flammable." Or at least I assume this is what it said, since I can't read the outside of a box I'm in and when I lit a match to look around the whole thing exploded - away from me of course. I looked out and saw Cairo, but exploded from my exploding cardboard box. This brought me up to 7:05 PM in the morning.
TO BE CONTINUED!
Here is my admission to murder.
So I was walking down the streets this morning at 6:40 PM, when suddenly I saw pass a cottonwool cloud across the street. Then I thought to myself, "hey, I've never seen a cottonwool cloud before", so I crossed the street to go look at it. I did not cross the street at a crosswalk, I crossed in the middle of the street. And so a car hit me. And the car bounced off and flew over me, landing in a crumpled heap which then exploded. While not exactly murder, I did laugh at them afterwards, and as it turns out laughing at an exploded car with dead corpses in it at 6:41 PM in the morning is apparently a major felony in 76 of the 43 states. So 15 minutes later, I found myself in front of the Supreme Court. Don't ask me how I got there in fifteen minutes, all I know was I got lost and then found myself. And I was in front of the Supreme Court. So they said: "Hey, we're so high up in our wooden stand thingies that we have trouble seeing you. So you're off the hook this time." And I was like "Sweet!"
So I walked outside and found myself in a cardboard box labelled: "Caution: Keep Away From Fire. Highly Flammable." Or at least I assume this is what it said, since I can't read the outside of a box I'm in and when I lit a match to look around the whole thing exploded - away from me of course. I looked out and saw Cairo, but exploded from my exploding cardboard box. This brought me up to 7:05 PM in the morning.
TO BE CONTINUED!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Enjoyed your weekend, Internet?
I know I sure didn't.
15 hours of rehearsal for the fall play in 48 hours of living. Yeah. Not cool.
15 hours of rehearsal for the fall play in 48 hours of living. Yeah. Not cool.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Re-Education: Religion (pt 1)
Re-education time children.
Firstly, what is re-education?
You may know this as propaganda, falsehood, or lies. Well, let me tell you something.
EVERYTHING YOU KNOW IS A LIE.
Re-education is a program dedicated to righting the wrongs of the modern school system. Today I'm going to start with a little peep on religion.
Firstly, if any one religion is the true religion, then why do so many religions claim as such? The answer: It's because the Smoufr that run the universe bio-engineered a paradox.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, you say, what the eff's a Smouf?
Simple: they're a specialized sect of thermonuclear weasels that decided one day that they didn't like how the world was going, and so decided to remake the universe in their image. As you can imagine, remaking a universe in the image of a thermonuclear weasel and making that image thermonuclear isn't very healthy for the general populace of the universe. So they reremade it back into a somewhat normal universe.
I'm the only one who knows the extent of the Smoufr (plural of Smouf) ways. Now whomever reads this at least knows of their existence. Beware of Smoufr. If you see one, get as far away from it as you possibly can. Then cover yourself in tinfoil. Then lock yourself in a trunk and swallow the key. You're now only probably dead.
Firstly, what is re-education?
You may know this as propaganda, falsehood, or lies. Well, let me tell you something.
EVERYTHING YOU KNOW IS A LIE.
Re-education is a program dedicated to righting the wrongs of the modern school system. Today I'm going to start with a little peep on religion.
Firstly, if any one religion is the true religion, then why do so many religions claim as such? The answer: It's because the Smoufr that run the universe bio-engineered a paradox.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, you say, what the eff's a Smouf?
Simple: they're a specialized sect of thermonuclear weasels that decided one day that they didn't like how the world was going, and so decided to remake the universe in their image. As you can imagine, remaking a universe in the image of a thermonuclear weasel and making that image thermonuclear isn't very healthy for the general populace of the universe. So they reremade it back into a somewhat normal universe.
I'm the only one who knows the extent of the Smoufr (plural of Smouf) ways. Now whomever reads this at least knows of their existence. Beware of Smoufr. If you see one, get as far away from it as you possibly can. Then cover yourself in tinfoil. Then lock yourself in a trunk and swallow the key. You're now only probably dead.
Proper Grammar isn't that hard, kids
If you're going to spend the time writing something online, then you should at least spend some time to learn how to type. It's not that hard. There's 30-some odd essential keys without which you can't type. Taking shortcuts online hardly saves any time, and just make things more painful for others to read. Look, I'm not even 16 yet, and you'll never see a "u", "LOL", or "WTFLAZERBBQ" in anything I type.
10 Really really good reasons to at least attempt to write well:
1) Proper English is how English was intended to be used.
2) It's not difficult. Let me introduce you to spellcheck on Word.
3) You don't look like an ass afterwards.
4) You'll have so much of an easier time writing formally.
5) There is a difference between typing for a general audience and texting your buddies.
6) There's less awkwardness when someone important in your life finds out about your blog and reads it.
7) It's just... better.
8)You're obeying my command! Kneel before my awesome influence! Muahahahahaha!
... skip this point.
9) You get less flak from people like me!
10) As long as you try and use proper English, you'll at least be aware of what's wrong with the way you're writing.
10 Really really good reasons to at least attempt to write well:
1) Proper English is how English was intended to be used.
2) It's not difficult. Let me introduce you to spellcheck on Word.
3) You don't look like an ass afterwards.
4) You'll have so much of an easier time writing formally.
5) There is a difference between typing for a general audience and texting your buddies.
6) There's less awkwardness when someone important in your life finds out about your blog and reads it.
7) It's just... better.
8)You're obeying my command! Kneel before my awesome influence! Muahahahahaha!
... skip this point.
9) You get less flak from people like me!
10) As long as you try and use proper English, you'll at least be aware of what's wrong with the way you're writing.
Why Thermonuclear Weasel?
As we all know, every thing on the internet is either a meme, an inside joke, propaganda, or the crazed ravings of a lunatic. This is most likely all four. But why might I come up with something reminiscent of both a weapon of mass destruction and a cute and cuddly furry creature? Well, a few reasons.
Firstly, juxtaposition. Of course a small furry creature would be thermonuclear. Why not?
Secondly, nobody's going to mistake this blog for any other blog. Unless Iran has started experimenting with rodents, and even then I'd doubt this would be in English.
Thirdly, I made a joke the other night that somehow ended up being about irradiated weasels, and it's only a hop, skip, and a jump from irradiated to thermonuclear, so I figured I might as well.
Finally, the idea is just too darn cool to pass up.
Firstly, juxtaposition. Of course a small furry creature would be thermonuclear. Why not?
Secondly, nobody's going to mistake this blog for any other blog. Unless Iran has started experimenting with rodents, and even then I'd doubt this would be in English.
Thirdly, I made a joke the other night that somehow ended up being about irradiated weasels, and it's only a hop, skip, and a jump from irradiated to thermonuclear, so I figured I might as well.
Finally, the idea is just too darn cool to pass up.
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