Thursday, January 15, 2009
HOLY SWISS CHEESE, BATMAN!
It's a new template! I thought the old one was getting kind of boring so I decided to try a new one. Still deciding whether or not I hate it. By the way, I'm not actually going to write any funny words for this update, since I did it mostly as an excuse to unleash the horrible Batman pun on you, my faithful reader(s). HAH!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Why I Hate Shoveling (and so can YOU)!
So, I don't know if anyone else noticed, but it became winter a while ago. This means a couple of things, in my experience:
1) 'Sgonna be COLD, and
2) 'Sgonna snow.
I am pretty OK with cold. I don't like being cold, but I do enjoy being warm when it's cold everywhere else. And I really, really hate being hot, so I don't mind winter much in that respect.
As for snow, I actually enjoy it. It's like fluffy bits of ice that insulate your flesh! The problem with that is it tends to land on my houses driveway. And its sidewalk. And its stairs. And that means the snow has to be removed. And THAT means manual labor FTW!
Before I start ranting in earnest, let me explain something. I am suited physically to heavy labor. I am extremely proficient at lifting heavy objects, moving them, and setting them down. By extension, this means I am ALSO quite proficient at shoveling.
And so, when more than one half inch of snow falls, it is my sworn duty to get out there and shovel! And shovel! And shovel! And repeat as necessary! Keep going! It's not clean yet! It's Shoveling Time! At this point, I don't even CARE if I'm overusing exclamation points!!!
...Anyway, my main point is that shoveling gets old fast. no matter how much snow you remove, there are always more pretty little ice crystals ready to get a piece of that action. I wouldn't be so annoyed with this, but shoveling involves leaning over and shoveling for weeks at a time, until my eyes gain the cast of an explorer whose eyes have long swept the horizon in search of distant glory, who's had his retinas burnt out from all the stupid snow reflecting the glare of the black day star into them. And that leaning over I was talking about hurts. My spine no longer
functions. I'm like a six foot tall hunchback. If I have to shovel one more pile of snow, I'm going to run to France and have Victor Hugo write a story about me.
1) 'Sgonna be COLD, and
2) 'Sgonna snow.
I am pretty OK with cold. I don't like being cold, but I do enjoy being warm when it's cold everywhere else. And I really, really hate being hot, so I don't mind winter much in that respect.
As for snow, I actually enjoy it. It's like fluffy bits of ice that insulate your flesh! The problem with that is it tends to land on my houses driveway. And its sidewalk. And its stairs. And that means the snow has to be removed. And THAT means manual labor FTW!
Before I start ranting in earnest, let me explain something. I am suited physically to heavy labor. I am extremely proficient at lifting heavy objects, moving them, and setting them down. By extension, this means I am ALSO quite proficient at shoveling.
And so, when more than one half inch of snow falls, it is my sworn duty to get out there and shovel! And shovel! And shovel! And repeat as necessary! Keep going! It's not clean yet! It's Shoveling Time! At this point, I don't even CARE if I'm overusing exclamation points!!!
...Anyway, my main point is that shoveling gets old fast. no matter how much snow you remove, there are always more pretty little ice crystals ready to get a piece of that action. I wouldn't be so annoyed with this, but shoveling involves leaning over and shoveling for weeks at a time, until my eyes gain the cast of an explorer whose eyes have long swept the horizon in search of distant glory, who's had his retinas burnt out from all the stupid snow reflecting the glare of the black day star into them. And that leaning over I was talking about hurts. My spine no longer
functions. I'm like a six foot tall hunchback. If I have to shovel one more pile of snow, I'm going to run to France and have Victor Hugo write a story about me.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
and now...
with that, i close my updating frenzy. anyone reading this can probably expect another post in 2009. but before i lapse back into my contented swine like daze of inactivity, i would plug some of the awesome things of the Internet. the first, and greatest of these is ki
ngdom of loathing. i have a statement about, it which i repeat frequently, at regular intervals. it is the best game. it just is! kingdom of loathing is an online web browser based RPG. the only graphics are stick figures. the only method of interaction is by keyboard or mouse. the only benefit is PURE, SCINTILLATING HILARITY 23.5/7 (the site shuts down for half an hour every night to repair itself), combined with the satisfaction that the world is a better place because of this fantastic game.the second plug is for a webcomic by kate beaton. she is canadian. she is funny. she is a classy lady on the internet (the image at right is a picture by her which i am hoping i wil not be sued for?)
the second one!
i was thinking about the town i live in, and this popped into my head. in case you cant tell, i wasnt thinking very flattering thoughts.
It was grey. Cold, grey, and prematurely old on a day in October that wasn’t quite worth the effort. In a dying town, in a bled out area, in a house that hadn’t fallen apart yet, in a room put together by a person who didn’t know what they were doing, and tried to care a great deal about it, a CD player that should have died 5 years ago didn’t work. The people who weren’t in the room didn’t care, and if someone had been in the room, they wouldn’t have either. It was, without a doubt, a possibility that someone was somewhere thinking something, maybe. If a tumbleweed had had blown down the street, no one would have noticed, but if they had noticed, they wouldn’t have cared. If they had cared, (which, as was stated previously, they wouldn’t have) they might have thought it appropriate, considering the nature of the town, or they might not have, since they didn’t care or notice. Five people didn’t walk by, and a baby boomer had an acid flashback. Somewhere else, a frog died in a pond that had forgotten about something it couldn’t remember, and chaos theory failed to make a hurricane appear that completely destroyed the dying town. A janitor got a raise, though.
It was grey. Cold, grey, and prematurely old on a day in October that wasn’t quite worth the effort. In a dying town, in a bled out area, in a house that hadn’t fallen apart yet, in a room put together by a person who didn’t know what they were doing, and tried to care a great deal about it, a CD player that should have died 5 years ago didn’t work. The people who weren’t in the room didn’t care, and if someone had been in the room, they wouldn’t have either. It was, without a doubt, a possibility that someone was somewhere thinking something, maybe. If a tumbleweed had had blown down the street, no one would have noticed, but if they had noticed, they wouldn’t have cared. If they had cared, (which, as was stated previously, they wouldn’t have) they might have thought it appropriate, considering the nature of the town, or they might not have, since they didn’t care or notice. Five people didn’t walk by, and a baby boomer had an acid flashback. Somewhere else, a frog died in a pond that had forgotten about something it couldn’t remember, and chaos theory failed to make a hurricane appear that completely destroyed the dying town. A janitor got a raise, though.
the first creation
i wrote this when i was cleaning. i was very, very bored. i think it helps to read this as though it were the transcript of a political speech. it adds a certain flavour, pardon my french.
i cannot say, in all honesty, that i represent the common man. in my memory, i have never even met what seems to be publicly excepted as the common man. i represent myself. i believe that the morals, the ideas, ideals and principles which i represent reflect many of the same of those who i am speaking to tonight, but i do not know, and refuse to absolutely state. in my minds eye, the COMMON man is a predetermined thought, with set actions and reactions, a stringed puppet. i have no wish to represent this man, for i cannot truly call him a man. is not man the potential for growth? when we quantify and label him, we expect no growth, we discourage all growth, and we look with dismay upon any growth. it is my hope that some day, all men may be called uncommon men, that all men may will be willing, able encouraged to be uncommon. THIS is what i represent, and what i will strive to achieve with all my power.
i cannot say, in all honesty, that i represent the common man. in my memory, i have never even met what seems to be publicly excepted as the common man. i represent myself. i believe that the morals, the ideas, ideals and principles which i represent reflect many of the same of those who i am speaking to tonight, but i do not know, and refuse to absolutely state. in my minds eye, the COMMON man is a predetermined thought, with set actions and reactions, a stringed puppet. i have no wish to represent this man, for i cannot truly call him a man. is not man the potential for growth? when we quantify and label him, we expect no growth, we discourage all growth, and we look with dismay upon any growth. it is my hope that some day, all men may be called uncommon men, that all men may will be willing, able encouraged to be uncommon. THIS is what i represent, and what i will strive to achieve with all my power.
hark! an update
So in the first place, I'd like to apologize to my vast and loyal fan base (ha! I kill me) for the long delay since my last post. Actually, I take that back. I don't apologize. Basically everyone who reads this knows me in person, and should therefore know that I am mercurial, whimsical, and lazy. If you weren't previously aware of the fact, then you might want to read the preceding sentence five times, or until it sticks in your mind like the mantra of a Tibetan lama who's meditated 39 hours a day for the last 78 3/5 years. But anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I will either be in a furor of posting, hacking at the keyboard until my fingers bleed with the fury(redundant, i know) of my passion, or my literary spirit will be something along the lines of Kansas at the height of the dust bowl.
ANYWAY, I actually went through a literary phase a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot about my blog and didn't think to post either of my creations here. so, weeks late, but still deliciously fresh, it is my privilege to produce the two conglomerations of text that will follow this one, in their original, i.e. unpunctuated/spellchecked/proofread glory
ANYWAY, I actually went through a literary phase a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot about my blog and didn't think to post either of my creations here. so, weeks late, but still deliciously fresh, it is my privilege to produce the two conglomerations of text that will follow this one, in their original, i.e. unpunctuated/spellchecked/proofread glory
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
alone and angsty
although i have tried to make my posts cheerfully irregular tidbits (or tibbits, as i like to call them, because tibbits is basically the most awesome word invented, EVER) it was inevitable that at some point in this blogs life i would write angsty post, and then try to rationalize my sin with meta humor, and then almost fall into an eternal apologist loop, only to break it by going into a descriptive that is not just confusing, but mostly incomprehensible to anyone reading it besides me. anyway, I'm sitting in my house at 9 at night, feeling slightly sorry for myself. i would have gone to my martial arts class, except its on break, which i didn't realize until AFTER id walked 2 miles to get to it. then i walked 2 miles home, and this. shutting up now.
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