I have a hole in my foot.
Thanks, Clarke.
I have a hole in my calf.
Thanks, Barry.
I have a blister on my hand.
That would be my fault. I was holding the Roman Candle a little to close to the exploding end while I was lighting it.
Heh. Oops.
At least the holes in my body will regenerate. Unlike Jessie's shirt. There's no fixin' that black-edged hole... or the scorch mark on her shoulder. Or the scorch marks on Kamaron (pretty sure I'm responsible for one or two of those... and Dad can claim any scorch marks on the jeans pockets).
*Sigh*
I've missed our Roman Candle battles. This one involved more Candles than ever before, and consequently more injuries to self and wardrobe.
Yeah. It was epic.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Life is a potato on the submarine of Mt. Everest.
Today my little brother was having trouble with his lit homework. He was supposed to find 3 metaphors in Percy Byyshtfgjyst Shelley's poem, Ode to the West Wind, which anyone who has read the poem will know, is not actually written in English.
Being the exceptionally helpful big sister that I am, I decided to send him some examples of metaphors to whet his brain. Unfortunately, metaphors are not, and never were, my strong point. In fact, I'm quite dismal at them. There was one time a friend of mine talked about how love was like leaves in the autumn, and every word that came out of his mouth was pure and tender poetry. I envied his ability to think in metaphors. For after that moment, I determined that MY love life was a ... um... a... an... well... um... it's a... *20 minutes later* ... well, a something that was really cool that I'd think of later when I was feeling more inspired.
But, today I was feeling slightly more inspired, so I sent Kamaron some of my metaphors. He wrote me back and told me they were actually similes. Whatever. Just delete the word "like" and it becomes a metaphor so HA!
Now that I have been so inspired, I'd like to make a list of some of the more brilliant metaphors (and similes!) I have come up with throughout my life.
*Defining a romantic relationship is like farting: You know when you need to do it, you can sure feel it, and the longer you wait the more the pressure builds. When you finally get everything out, it is SUCH a relief.
*Studying philosophy is leaning your head gently against a brick wall, then running full speed, dragging your face along.
*Perfect pickup-line metaphor: "Thou art like unto a patch of moss! Soft to the touch and vibrantly colorful. There never was such a pleasant plant to feel against the skin of my feet." Yep. That'll get her every time.
*Election years are like a broken-window convention for nine year olds.
*A simile is the valley girl of metaphors.
*Calculus is a pooping goose: over my head.
*My dating history is a blind narcissist in a house of mirrors.
*Looking for the meaning of metaphors is like trying to reach that booger at the back of your nose. The deeper you dig, the more likely you are to make your face bleed.
Being the exceptionally helpful big sister that I am, I decided to send him some examples of metaphors to whet his brain. Unfortunately, metaphors are not, and never were, my strong point. In fact, I'm quite dismal at them. There was one time a friend of mine talked about how love was like leaves in the autumn, and every word that came out of his mouth was pure and tender poetry. I envied his ability to think in metaphors. For after that moment, I determined that MY love life was a ... um... a... an... well... um... it's a... *20 minutes later* ... well, a something that was really cool that I'd think of later when I was feeling more inspired.
But, today I was feeling slightly more inspired, so I sent Kamaron some of my metaphors. He wrote me back and told me they were actually similes. Whatever. Just delete the word "like" and it becomes a metaphor so HA!
Now that I have been so inspired, I'd like to make a list of some of the more brilliant metaphors (and similes!) I have come up with throughout my life.
*Defining a romantic relationship is like farting: You know when you need to do it, you can sure feel it, and the longer you wait the more the pressure builds. When you finally get everything out, it is SUCH a relief.
*Studying philosophy is leaning your head gently against a brick wall, then running full speed, dragging your face along.
*Perfect pickup-line metaphor: "Thou art like unto a patch of moss! Soft to the touch and vibrantly colorful. There never was such a pleasant plant to feel against the skin of my feet." Yep. That'll get her every time.
*Election years are like a broken-window convention for nine year olds.
*A simile is the valley girl of metaphors.
*Calculus is a pooping goose: over my head.
*My dating history is a blind narcissist in a house of mirrors.
*Looking for the meaning of metaphors is like trying to reach that booger at the back of your nose. The deeper you dig, the more likely you are to make your face bleed.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
What an epic night...
Every now and then I like to blog about my subconscious's latest escapades while I sleep. This last one was too weird not to record somewhere.
So, last night I was wandering around the church building where I attended church from the ages 9-18... or 19. Can't remember how old I was. Anyway, it was night, and totally dark, and there were these "demons" running around that actually looked like the creatures from the movie Bridge to Terabithia, and were really gross. I discovered that you could slay the demons by getting them wet or burning them, so I went looking for them to try to rid the world of them.
That part was quite creepy. There was this woman with demons in her minivan, and she looked like she was purely enjoying having them around.
Then I ran into one of the guys I work with. I told him, "Man! What's with all these demons?" And he was like, "I know, right?" And we talked about it for a bit. Then he walked away, stopped, turned around and said, "By the way..." and morphed into a demon right there. I was like, "Ooooooh, shoot..."
Then I was upstairs on some balcony thing that doesn't exist in real life, and there were demons all over the place with Harry Potter wands. I whipped out my own wand and tried to cast some spells! Unfortunately, I could only remember like 2 of them, and they weren't working very well. But, never fear! My wand had a button on it that shot water! So, I walked around shooting water on people who were actually demons.
I passed the guy I worked with again. I said, "Sorry, Tyler," and blasted his face with water. As he was shriveling up he said, "That's okay. I deserve it."
And yes, I felt kinda bad for killing him. And then all the demons started running away, and I noticed there were two that looked like Michael Jackson.
Then, everything was suddenly daytime! This guy came in and chewed me out for killing the demons, because apparently when you kill them the way I'd been killing them, they reproduce... like Hydra... but not exactly like hydra because they only triple instead of septipling (yes, that's a word. I just added it to my personal dictionary. Eat that, Scrabble). You can only defeat demons using karate.
We knew there was a war coming! It was going to be bad! But then the ninja turtles came running in, complete with slow motion and cheesy music, led by that rat thing that trains them. Except, these were "ninja turtle baby" plush toys, and there were only three of them. But that's okay. Baby ninja turtles grow up into BIG ninja turtle plush toys.
And that was the end of my dream.
But wait! That was only my FIRST dream!
The second dream was a little shorter. You know how in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, there's that black night that won't let anybody pass? Well, in my dream, there was a bleach-blond beach bum guy who wouldn't let anybody pass this little shack on the road unless they fought and defeated him first.
Person after person got their butt kicked. We all agreed he was a real jerk. Finally, I stepped up to the challenge.
I stuffed him in one of those gallon and a quart ice cream buckets and started banging him against the windows, being sure to shatter the windows of his shack while I was at it.
With every bang, I yelled at him.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE - bang! - BLOCKING PEOPLE'S PATHS - bang! - LIKE THAT? WHAT GIVE YOU - bang! - THE RIGHT TO BE SUCH - bang! - A - bang! - JERK - bang! - TO EVERYBODY YOU MEET?"
etc. etc. etc.
As I was thwacking him against the windows, I had this random, mildly sexist thought that only a woman would chew him out while beating him up.
Then, I flung him out the window and into the tops of the trees. The bucket fell down, followed by a shower of cuts of meat.
I realized I'd killed him.
Oops.
My little brother looked through one of the shack windows and said, "You'll be getting an invoice for that."
A fax machine in the corner beeped and printed out an invoice that said, "You have purchased one beach bum. Would you like to return this product?"
You think?
And that was that dream.
It's not just my conscious self. Even my subconscious is weird.
So, last night I was wandering around the church building where I attended church from the ages 9-18... or 19. Can't remember how old I was. Anyway, it was night, and totally dark, and there were these "demons" running around that actually looked like the creatures from the movie Bridge to Terabithia, and were really gross. I discovered that you could slay the demons by getting them wet or burning them, so I went looking for them to try to rid the world of them.
That part was quite creepy. There was this woman with demons in her minivan, and she looked like she was purely enjoying having them around.
Then I ran into one of the guys I work with. I told him, "Man! What's with all these demons?" And he was like, "I know, right?" And we talked about it for a bit. Then he walked away, stopped, turned around and said, "By the way..." and morphed into a demon right there. I was like, "Ooooooh, shoot..."
Then I was upstairs on some balcony thing that doesn't exist in real life, and there were demons all over the place with Harry Potter wands. I whipped out my own wand and tried to cast some spells! Unfortunately, I could only remember like 2 of them, and they weren't working very well. But, never fear! My wand had a button on it that shot water! So, I walked around shooting water on people who were actually demons.
I passed the guy I worked with again. I said, "Sorry, Tyler," and blasted his face with water. As he was shriveling up he said, "That's okay. I deserve it."
And yes, I felt kinda bad for killing him. And then all the demons started running away, and I noticed there were two that looked like Michael Jackson.
Then, everything was suddenly daytime! This guy came in and chewed me out for killing the demons, because apparently when you kill them the way I'd been killing them, they reproduce... like Hydra... but not exactly like hydra because they only triple instead of septipling (yes, that's a word. I just added it to my personal dictionary. Eat that, Scrabble). You can only defeat demons using karate.
We knew there was a war coming! It was going to be bad! But then the ninja turtles came running in, complete with slow motion and cheesy music, led by that rat thing that trains them. Except, these were "ninja turtle baby" plush toys, and there were only three of them. But that's okay. Baby ninja turtles grow up into BIG ninja turtle plush toys.
And that was the end of my dream.
But wait! That was only my FIRST dream!
The second dream was a little shorter. You know how in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, there's that black night that won't let anybody pass? Well, in my dream, there was a bleach-blond beach bum guy who wouldn't let anybody pass this little shack on the road unless they fought and defeated him first.
Person after person got their butt kicked. We all agreed he was a real jerk. Finally, I stepped up to the challenge.
I stuffed him in one of those gallon and a quart ice cream buckets and started banging him against the windows, being sure to shatter the windows of his shack while I was at it.
With every bang, I yelled at him.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE - bang! - BLOCKING PEOPLE'S PATHS - bang! - LIKE THAT? WHAT GIVE YOU - bang! - THE RIGHT TO BE SUCH - bang! - A - bang! - JERK - bang! - TO EVERYBODY YOU MEET?"
etc. etc. etc.
As I was thwacking him against the windows, I had this random, mildly sexist thought that only a woman would chew him out while beating him up.
Then, I flung him out the window and into the tops of the trees. The bucket fell down, followed by a shower of cuts of meat.
I realized I'd killed him.
Oops.
My little brother looked through one of the shack windows and said, "You'll be getting an invoice for that."
A fax machine in the corner beeped and printed out an invoice that said, "You have purchased one beach bum. Would you like to return this product?"
You think?
And that was that dream.
It's not just my conscious self. Even my subconscious is weird.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Apparently I'm melting.
Picture a desert. Can you see it? What does it look like?
Now picture a cube. Now a ladder. Now a horse. Now a storm. Now a flower.
This is a game I'd seen before, but not recently enough to remember what was coming when my roommate sprung it on me. I knew the horse meant something... subconscious maybe? Nah... that wasn't it... something.
So I played the game, faithfully drawing out the scene in an old notebook. The cube was an ice cube melting in the fervent heat of the desert sun. But, there was a ladder there to shade it and slow the melting process. The horse was lucky it was melting, because it was a very thirsty equine, and the cube gave it some moisture to lick up. I actually had several ideas about what to do with the horse. Everything from a paint to a spotted-butt appaloosa, to the bay Arabian I had as a little kid that was my noble steed in all of my daydreams. I finally settled on the childhood horse. Oh, and the storm? Everyone was grateful for that dust-devil spittin' storm that'd bring some blessed moisture to the desert. It was juuuust startin' to block out that scorching beasty the sun. The flower was especially thrilled about the storm, and to make sure that was clear, I drew a wide-eyed, toothy grin on the top of that prickly pear blossom's face.
Then came the interpretation. The cube is... <drum roll>... ME! Yep. Apparently I'm cold and icy. Oh, and I'm melting.
But, never fear, the ladder which is... <other drum roll>... my friends(!) are there to slow that process.
Then there's the horse. Um... not sure how I feel about the long-tongued noble steed who was getting some licky-licky ice cube action. This is apparently my lover.
At least I don't have a lover in the traditional sense of the word. Perhaps this is how I would treat a lover if I had one.
I'll stop there and hope you don't have too active of an imagination filling in those blanks.
It means I'll make sure that if I get him a drink, it'll have ice cubes in it! Sheesh! Get your mind out of the gutter!
*ahem*
Anyway, the storm means trials. Apparently trials are a blessed relief. I love trials! I can never get enough! Why, I'm purely melting from the heat of easy life. How can I handle...
I should probably stop. I firmly believe God has a sense of humor, and I also have seen enough irony in my life to believe that Murphy's Law is scientific fact. I don't need my facetiousness transformed into reality. Nuh uh.
And the flower is my children. They love trials too, because it brings them life. Maybe that's what my picture was saying! I will gladly endure the pain of childbirth to bring happy life to my future children.
This flawless interpretation of my desert/cube/ladder/horse/storm/flower scene is brought to you by the Japanese art of Kokology.
Now picture a cube. Now a ladder. Now a horse. Now a storm. Now a flower.
This is a game I'd seen before, but not recently enough to remember what was coming when my roommate sprung it on me. I knew the horse meant something... subconscious maybe? Nah... that wasn't it... something.
So I played the game, faithfully drawing out the scene in an old notebook. The cube was an ice cube melting in the fervent heat of the desert sun. But, there was a ladder there to shade it and slow the melting process. The horse was lucky it was melting, because it was a very thirsty equine, and the cube gave it some moisture to lick up. I actually had several ideas about what to do with the horse. Everything from a paint to a spotted-butt appaloosa, to the bay Arabian I had as a little kid that was my noble steed in all of my daydreams. I finally settled on the childhood horse. Oh, and the storm? Everyone was grateful for that dust-devil spittin' storm that'd bring some blessed moisture to the desert. It was juuuust startin' to block out that scorching beasty the sun. The flower was especially thrilled about the storm, and to make sure that was clear, I drew a wide-eyed, toothy grin on the top of that prickly pear blossom's face.
Then came the interpretation. The cube is... <drum roll>... ME! Yep. Apparently I'm cold and icy. Oh, and I'm melting.
But, never fear, the ladder which is... <other drum roll>... my friends(!) are there to slow that process.
Then there's the horse. Um... not sure how I feel about the long-tongued noble steed who was getting some licky-licky ice cube action. This is apparently my lover.
At least I don't have a lover in the traditional sense of the word. Perhaps this is how I would treat a lover if I had one.
I'll stop there and hope you don't have too active of an imagination filling in those blanks.
It means I'll make sure that if I get him a drink, it'll have ice cubes in it! Sheesh! Get your mind out of the gutter!
*ahem*
Anyway, the storm means trials. Apparently trials are a blessed relief. I love trials! I can never get enough! Why, I'm purely melting from the heat of easy life. How can I handle...
I should probably stop. I firmly believe God has a sense of humor, and I also have seen enough irony in my life to believe that Murphy's Law is scientific fact. I don't need my facetiousness transformed into reality. Nuh uh.
And the flower is my children. They love trials too, because it brings them life. Maybe that's what my picture was saying! I will gladly endure the pain of childbirth to bring happy life to my future children.
This flawless interpretation of my desert/cube/ladder/horse/storm/flower scene is brought to you by the Japanese art of Kokology.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
My bi-polar germs
Dear Bacteria,
Or perhaps you are a virus. I would like to recommend you receive professional help for your personality disorder. I tell you this today, because it seems you are in a manic phase, and I don't want to spring it on you while you're depressed.
Now, I understand that you may think you are perfectly fine. "I don't need help!" you may say. But, let's look at the facts, shall we?
Thursday and Friday you were quite chipper. I could feel you inside me all day, and by Friday night, I was pretty sure you were having the party of the decade.
Then came Saturday. You poor germs. I hardly felt you at all. You must have been so depressed while I went to the movies and played games with my friends. It was like you had completely disappeared.
Then we have today. You're certainly in an upswing, and have been getting more and more excited all day! Right now it's the party of the century in my lungs.
All this manic-depressive behavior is quite unsettling to me. So, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This friend has a PhD in psychology, and many years' experience as a therapist for germs. Germs, meet Dr. Mucinex. Dr. Mucinex, meet germs.
Sincerely,
Your Host.
P.S. Go die in a hole.
Or perhaps you are a virus. I would like to recommend you receive professional help for your personality disorder. I tell you this today, because it seems you are in a manic phase, and I don't want to spring it on you while you're depressed.
Now, I understand that you may think you are perfectly fine. "I don't need help!" you may say. But, let's look at the facts, shall we?
Thursday and Friday you were quite chipper. I could feel you inside me all day, and by Friday night, I was pretty sure you were having the party of the decade.
Then came Saturday. You poor germs. I hardly felt you at all. You must have been so depressed while I went to the movies and played games with my friends. It was like you had completely disappeared.
Then we have today. You're certainly in an upswing, and have been getting more and more excited all day! Right now it's the party of the century in my lungs.
All this manic-depressive behavior is quite unsettling to me. So, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This friend has a PhD in psychology, and many years' experience as a therapist for germs. Germs, meet Dr. Mucinex. Dr. Mucinex, meet germs.
Sincerely,
Your Host.
P.S. Go die in a hole.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Is it selling out?
So, apparently you can earn some extra cash by putting ads on your blog. I don't know how much extra cash, or how it works, because I haven't tried it yet.
However, with tuition coming up, normal bills, a brand new AAA bill I haven't paid yet, and a scammer on Amazon.com that took $80 from me (never fear, Amazon paid it back... in a credit that I can only use on Amazon, and therefore I'm still without $80 or my product), the thought of having a few extra dollars floating around is quite appealing.
But, here's the question. Is it a bad thing to put ads on a blog when you're not actually interested in advertising anything? I mean, isn't that like commercialism taking over our lives or something like that? Is commercialism taking over our lives really a bad thing? Hmmm...
Ooh! Or maybe I'll start a new blog where I write fictional stories, and therefore have the right to "sell" my product by putting ads up on the site.
Either way, at least I have Ad Blocker Plus! ^_^
However, with tuition coming up, normal bills, a brand new AAA bill I haven't paid yet, and a scammer on Amazon.com that took $80 from me (never fear, Amazon paid it back... in a credit that I can only use on Amazon, and therefore I'm still without $80 or my product), the thought of having a few extra dollars floating around is quite appealing.
But, here's the question. Is it a bad thing to put ads on a blog when you're not actually interested in advertising anything? I mean, isn't that like commercialism taking over our lives or something like that? Is commercialism taking over our lives really a bad thing? Hmmm...
Ooh! Or maybe I'll start a new blog where I write fictional stories, and therefore have the right to "sell" my product by putting ads up on the site.
Either way, at least I have Ad Blocker Plus! ^_^
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