Wednesday, December 28, 2011

The New Policy

Were I to rule the world, I would implement laws for the betterment of humanity as a whole, for example:
Should you because famous for being famous, your family name becomes a brand, a scent, and your sole identity, and you use that fame to make an ass of yourself, your name shall promptly be taken away and replaced with first and last numbers.

Take note, Kardashians, or should I say Family Unit 112343.

(Intelligent family members would be able to keep their name, or change it freely, based on the assholes they were forced to live with, however appearing on Dancing With the Stars automatically revokes this right.)

... You're welcome, World.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Welcome to The Grid, Lord Jobs

While Steve Jobs' passing was indeed a loss, I'm pretty sure the writers of Tron 3 all shed at least a few tears of joy. You jobs just got a whole lot easier, boys.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Let it grow, Gentlemen.

I support No Shave November, so long as the end result is something akin to a bear-living-on-your-face, lumberjack, furry, manly beard. That's where it's at.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Commence Evil Laughter

Passive aggressive habit: Interchange Helvetica, Helvetica Neue, Arial, Frutiger and mess with kerning. Reader knows it looks weird; can't perceive difference.

What's that teacher whom I dislike? Paper must be typed in Arial? How about 'Screw You'?

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Yes, you are a wuss.

I really hate when people complain about shots. Oh, I'm sorry you had a trained medical professional give you an anesthetic before carefully injecting you with a repeatedly tried and certified formula designed to create an immunity to horrible diseases and illnesses. What's that? It left a little mark and your arm is sore?

Try getting measles, cholera, chicken pox, tetanus, pertussis, diphtheria, mumps, rubella, rabies, polio, smallpox, yellow fever... etc. Quit your bitching and get the damn shot.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Bring on the rain

Ever since people started freaking out about Hurricane Irene, I've not been able to stop singing 'Come on Eileen.'

At least It's empowering. Come on Irene.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

!Public Service Announcement!

Short hiatus because school is starting up.. probably a week or so, but after that, expect more posts full of scathing sarcasm and blunt observation (and maybe some actually funny stuff too).

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

To the Grown-ups:

Dear Adults:

I just want to kindly thank you for all you've done to screw up society.
I know, us kids have 'bad influences', like the music we listen to that you produce, like the violent movies and TV that you create, like the spoiled brats that you pay to spoil, like the commercialization of society which you fund,  and like the loss of personal history that you didn't deem important enough to pass on.

I'm sorry that the governments of the world seem increasingly broken, they've been that way since 'Grown-Ups' have been running them. I'm sorry the economy is tanking, maybe you should talk to the 'Grown-Ups' in congress. I'm sorry there's race riots and famine and families that can't support each other. I think that's because of those 'Grown-Ups' who fail to see all people as equals unless there's money to be had. I'm sorry for religious extremism. It seems like you should blame that on the 'Grown-Ups' who raise their children without a shadow of choice or hold their families to their own extreme beliefs. I'm sorry there's violence, you could ask the children of 'Grown-Ups' who've beaten them their entire lives why they think that it's okay to lash out at others.

TL;DR: Thanks, 'Grown-Ups', now stop touching stuff, you're making it worse.

Talk to me when you'd like a bit of insight,
-One of those 'Damned Kids'

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Oh math, you so silly

Math problems are the only time you can take multiple marbles out of a bag and not lose any.

 Math problems are the only time two trains can be careening toward each other and no one panics or bothers to stop the train.

Math problems are the only time children actually share M&Ms. 

Math problems are the only time you can buy 72 apple pies and no one wonders what the hell is wrong with you. 

Monday, August 8, 2011

Keeping it balanced

The optimist invented the airplane.
The pessimist invented the parachute.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Oh, days long gone.

I miss middle school, when every serious ailment was treatable by skipping a test and going to the nurse's office and laying on a cot for 20 minutes until the nurse kicked you out. 

(ProTip: Make friends with the nurse, then they'll let you sleep instead of laying there awkwardly trying to avoid the gaze of the one poor kid actually there because they were legitimately sick.)

Friday, July 29, 2011

Not-So-Breaking News!

As much as I love watching the news, there are times news stations really piss me off.

For example: "An important recall affecting hundreds nationwide, find out what it is and if you're affected at 11."
Oh, that's peachy. I'll just sit on the floor and not touch ANYTHING until 11, so I'm safe until you tell me about the product that may or may not KILL me. That's cool, really guys.

Animal Facts you'll never forget:

Did you know platypuses secret milk from their skin? It's like they have little nipples all over their bodies. Just think, every time you pet a female platypus, you automatically get to second base.

Don't even lie, gentlemen, you're thinking about that.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Oh, the Internet...

Facebook is just the poor excuse for having to deal with people whom you would normally cross the street just to avoid.

(Come on, it's true and you know it.)

Monday, July 25, 2011

Does it work on boogie men too?

I love the people that check behind the shower curtain before using a restroom. As I see it, there are a couple (more than a couple, actually, I'm just too lazy) flaws with that plan:

First of all, why would you even do that in the first place? What on earth would be behind the curtain that wouldn't just ambush you as soon as you entered the room?
Second of all, what would you do if there was (on the extremely off chance) someone or something with bad intentions behind the curtain?

Let's be honest, that's just silly. (Now excuse me while I check under my bed for dead bodies and in my closet for dinosaurs.)

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Jerk or Idiot? I remain undecided.

Dear severely overweight douchebag who I had to share a lift with in the St. Louis Arch:

I know, it takes 4 solid minutes to get to the top, but that does not give you the right to fill that 4 minute time span with talk of how the lifts got stuck for two hours in 110 degree heat only two weeks ago. If the ride had been 4 minutes and 30 seconds, you would have been unconscious by the end.

Yours Truly,

The girl who was blocking you out by singing rock songs featured in movies.

They're all also named like subway stations.

The up side to living across the landfill is the fact that animals no longer look or act like normal animals. Real-life Pokémon? I think so.

The Greatest Lesson

My favourite teacher of all time is my 8th grade algebra teacher, Mr. Fair. As much of a jerk as he was, and as much of his class as I slept through, he is the most honest teacher I've had to date. When I asked him, years ago in the 8th grade, why algebra mattered at all, he answered quickly, without looking away from the board. "It doesn't. Just learn it."

Friday, July 22, 2011

Life is a highway, after all.

Living near a highway is like having your own personal news radio station because there are people in the world whose mission it is to yell the day's important events as they go flying by at 60+.

(This is actually how I found out Michael Jackson AND Billy Mays had died. Damn you, Pennsylvania Route 512.)

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Some Game Shows Are Pretty Alright, Actually.

I have to say, The Family Feud is one of the few game shows I think I would be decent at. I feel pretty in-tune with what the general population thinks.

That being said, I would never actually play The Family Feud, because that would entail dealing with my family and faking enthusiasm when someone down the line eventually answers with "A bucket of Turds." Good answer? Good answer my ass.

Friday, June 24, 2011

High School Sucked, Get Over it.

I don't understand why so many adults wish they could go back to high school. Stealing your parents' wine coolers and acne were the best years of your life?

Thanks for ruining any hopes of a happy adulthood for me.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Everybody Drives- Get Over It.

One of my best friends got his driver's permit today. It made me realize how whenever someone says 'oh, I got my permit', everyone makes some unintentionally snotty comment along the lines of 'uh oh, now I'd better get off the road! Hahahahahahahahahahahahah!'.

You could have been driving in junior league auto races since you were 10 and yet everyone feels the need to make some sort of comment. Even the little twats who don't have their permit make remarks. 'Oh, I guess I'd better wait a bit to start driving!'. No. Stop it. Now.

Slightly related: I also hate people who wait too long to get their licenses. Come on, you're a legal adult; if you're not going to move out of your parents' house, or at least go to college, get a goddamn car and a job. You may be able to list all of the characters in every Final Fantasy ever, that doesn't give you street cred, or any 'cred' at all. Knock it off and quit your bitching, upper-middle class suburban white fat kid.

(I can say all that because I'm a lower-middle class country white girl, who has not yet disappointed my parents. Just wait a few years until I'm broke, struggling through college, and up to my ears in student loans. You'll see.)

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Dog is Trying to Kill Me

Edit because this made the front page of graphjam! You saw it here folks. The original.

Success in Getting Fourthmeal Should be Worth at Least a Medal

It's nearly 1 AM and like every other teenager up this late at night, I'm starving for fourthmeal. Still living with my family (because I'm too young to legally live on my own), obtaining this 'fourthmeal' is one hell of an adventure. Getting out of my room is the first goal. No, my room isn't a huge mess, but my room is next to the hallway where my younger brother's overly-affectionate puppy waits for me, in the process usually having one or more 'accidents on the floor'. It's getting to the point that I'm pretty sure this dog is just out to get me. At 1am, I sneak out in the hall, all the while trying to be silent. Another obstacle that presents itself only in the deep of night is the fact that most people are easily woken up by bursts of light. In order to get through the hall around my younger brother's puppy's presents, but I have to do so in the dark, as to not wake up sleeping relatives.

So far, to recap, my mission includes exiting the room, avoiding puppy shit. Crossing the hall to close the doors to my relatives room, avoiding puppy shit. Turning on the light so on the way back up, once I've reached my target, I don't kill myself falling in a puddle of puppy shit. The next goal is to go downstairs and find something to eat. Of course this is where I realize night after night that there are about seven million different potential ingredients in the kitchen, but there is not one quick, decent tasting recipe to combine any of them in any sort of logical way. This leaves only room for illogical combinations of food. Once I've butchered some classical recipe I may or may not have once seen on the food network, I start returning upstairs. With meal and beverage, I normally don't have a free hand, which means turning off all of the lights I've passed on my way up with my elbow.

Finally, I'm back in front of my room, however in order to keep a pile of puppy shit from infiltrating my bedroom, I close the door firmly. It cannot be kicked or shoved open, I know. Instead, I transform into the world's largest successful contortionist, managing to twist myself so I can turn off the hall light, balance my food, open the door with a complete twist of the knob, all while avoiding puppy shit. Once in, I quickly dump all of the food, close the door and get back to whatever load of late night crap I was watching before I went to grab snacks.

I'm sorry, but I would like to see Mike Phelps beat the sort of times I've gotten. Chicken parm in five minutes flat? Done.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Prince of Persia is full of Stupidity

Never have I seen a movie where so many people grab a dagger by the blade. Come on guys. It's a dagger.

I also will admit, I don't understand the premise of the dagger itself... If the gods were so pissed off at humanity for the egregious amount of violence they were prone to, why, of all things, did they give them a symbolic KNIFE. That seems pretty violent. Why not the Small Toy Elephant of Time, or the Lovely Hair Pin of Time. It just had to be an item that could invoke more violence, huh? Bastards.

Netflix Thinks I'm on Crack.

I love Netflix. Netflix is the best thing to ever happen to anyone who has a summer vacation. Why? Netflix is a nearly unlimited plethora of movies and TV shows that you've never even heard of, and they're all ripe for the taking. Mailing DVDs? Sure, that's a great way to get the movies you actually want to see, but my favorite part is definitely the streaming service.

I mostly love the streaming service for two reasons. First of all, the suggestions are nonsensical, to put it nicely. You like Crazy Zombie Bloodbath 3? Let us suggest March of the Penguins. (That's based on a true story, I swear.) It also suggest titles I've not even remotely heard of before. Thankskilling? Sure, I've got an hour to kill! (That's also based on a true story. One of my guy friends made me watch it. It's REALLY NSFW...) In this way, Netflix forces its users to find things they like outside of the normal comfort-zone genres. The suggestions are also based on user input. Since I share a Netflix account with my entire family, our suggestions are everywhere. Scooby Doo, Zodiac, Cannibal! The musical!, Ong Bak: Thai Warrior, they're all mushed in there. Granted, I use it the most, so a lot of the suggestions are relevant to me. When my 20-something brother tries to look up racing and action flicks, though, he's forced to drudge through swamps of stand up comedy and gory operas just to find one flick that he may or may not like. He'll watch it anyway, though, because really, what loser uses the search button?

The other reason I love the streaming service? Instant gratification. When I see a movie about zombie grandmothers, I want to watch it and I want to watch it NOW goddamnit! With streaming, I click play and go. No screwing around here. Instant gratification.

Netflix is my best friend, whether it's wasting all of my exam study time watching Reaper, or whittling away the summer with Hey Arnold, It's like getting to be a kid again. I can effectively say "Hey world, fuck off, I'm choosing to watch TV over deal with your kind of shit!" It's awesome being unemployed... for now.

Unrelated: I want more music festivals! NPR music was amazing and streamed the Sasquatch music festival, which was easily the best three days of my almost summer vacation. The bummer is, since school ran a few days over, (snow days, you guys are dicks.) I only got to be lulled to sleep by the Death Cab for Cutie set... I want summer music festivals where I can hang out all day and night in jeans and a tank-top and listen to music, whether I'm at the festival itself or not. (Ideally, I would be at the festival, but the soonest and nearest one to me is the famous Musikfest... Arrogant worms, I think YES.)

Anyway. More live music. Please.

Monday, June 20, 2011

How to Kill a Good Story

"Hey, did I ever tell you about the time Frank and I went out on a date and he ended up punching a drunk after the guy reached up my skirt and split his lip?"
"Oh... well he did."

Welcome to the Internet

I love the people who get offended by blog posts. I'm always tempted to ask if they're genuinely offended, or did they just not get their 'Welcome to the internet, and also fuck you' muffin basket.