Random Thoughts Of J.C.X.D.R.

Lump Them All Together

2008-07-08T11:03:00.003-04:00

While I realize that a certain amount of prejudice is out there, and probably always will be out there, I believe there's a line between a understandable amount and downright foolishness.

For example, there will always be jokes out there about Asians who eat dogs. Why? Hell, because there are actually Asians out there who eat dogs. And they live in Asia. And some eat dogs because they don't consider them domestic pets as we do. And because we see them as domestic pets, we see the aforementioned eating of dogs to be quite gross.

But like I said, there's an understandable amount of joking until I realize that you might actually think I eat puppies. Now that's just wrong. First off, I'm not much of a dog person. I like cats. Secondly... well, actually, I can't really think of a secondly part. So I suppose the "first off" is really my only reason.

Never mind, I just thought of one.

I find it to be slightly odd, for people to lump people together and then say things such as "Well, you're different from everyone," or "You're an anomaly." In a group of people containing millions of people, if one person can be different from the, say, twelve that you know, wouldn't it be just as possible that there a lot of people out there who differentiate from your paradigms?

Essentially, Name-Withheld-Person #1 was chatting with Name-Withheld-Person #2 about Person-That-Name-Withheld-Person #2-Has-A-Crush-On, hereafter known as "Person #3." And P1, being the cocky, older person who thinks she knows everything, decided, out of the goodness of her heart, to tell P2 that "all guys are the same," and that "no matter how nice they say it, they all mean the same thing."

And that's when I turn to her and query her reasoning. "Really?" I wonder aloud. "How so?"

And her stuck-up self says, "Yeah, I can read a guy from a mile away."

So I smirk. Because this girl doesn't know me at all. P1 doesn't know a thing about me, so I decide to question her. "Oh, really? And what do you read about me?"

And in a fit of unsurpassed stupidity, she says, "Well, I can't read you. You're the only guy I can't read. I don't ever know what you're thinking."

I realize that's possibly not a good thing, as she'll probably never trust me enough as a friend.

At any rate, this is when Name-Withheld-Person #4, neighbor and close friend to P1, comes along and says, "Yeah, James is weird. He's different from other guys."

I would like to state now that I am one man on this Earth. One man out of fifty billion. If one guy can be different from the fifty that you are acquainted with, then logic and probability follows that there are a billion guys out there who are, and I quote, "different from other guys."

Don't lump people together, especially not like that. Everyone's different from everyone else, everyone's unique, and everyone dislikes being sorted like toys on a shelf. We're not here for your labeling leisure.

Entrance

2008-06-19T22:47:00.002-04:00

As I've told numerous people before, "If you want something, go for it in a way that'll hurt the least amount of people."

I say it that way because, unfortunately in our world, there will eventually be someone hurt by your actions, no matter how hard you try not to. Think about it, no matter how much you want something, there's someone else out there who wants it more. And if you attain such, you'll hurt that one person. It is a strength of their own character as to how they react to it.

At any rate, if you want something, then go for it. Work hard to attain what you want, and this is directed mostly at those too shy to try, or too insecure in their own abilities to believe they can.

If you don't believe you can, then work to get better. I'm not saying your belief is founded on actual fact, as there are many I know who don't believe they can sing when they can actually melt my heart when they don't think anyone's listening. But if you don't believe you're good enough, then work to get good enough. The line of stupidity is drawn when you don't believe you can ever get better, because the extent of human potential can never be reached. There's a reason we can give one-hundred-and-ten percent, and that's because we can push past our own limits to achieve phenomenal things.

So don't think you can't do something because you're shy or not good enough. Work your stuff out. You can get better.

This is my little motivational speech, and it's dedicated mostly to my friend (name withheld) for inspiring me. She is a source of much inspiration for me, and has honestly made a severe impact on my life and how I live it.

Thanks for everything.

Apologies

2008-06-19T22:43:00.002-04:00

For my avid readers, all two of you, you may be wondering what was with the giant hiatus of writing. Well, if you must know, I haven't exactly been in the condition to write. Was homeless for a while, then shacked up with a very good friend of mine. The 'rents are cool for letting me stay here. I'll be moving out around August, which means there will again be a hiatus around there due to lack of money to afford my own computer and Internet. So there. Deal.

At The End Of The Day

2008-05-31T11:43:00.001-04:00

Normally, this would be the blog in which I inform everyone of my woe-tide life in hopes for some obligated sympathy. But right now, considering this stage in a teenager's life is not about how much my family sucks, or why my teachers hate me, or the aliens who tried to cut me open in lieu of a better understanding of a lesser lifeform. It is about graduation.

As many of you know, I was not going to walk. I did not feel it necessary to shell out money to do the whole blah, blah, blah, you've all heard (or rather, read) me rant about this one numerous times. I am walking now, however, and not through my own devices. Tina Fallon and Jane Palmer banded together and against all adversity (in other words, my stupidity and stubbornness) convinced me to walk. They even paid for it. So, on the one hand, I didn't have to pay for it, which is what I was protesting. On the other hand, someone had to pay for it, which is what I was protesting.

But as Mrs. Fallon stated to me, it's not about anyone or anything but me and how I felt. Getting up on that stage and being handed that symbollic diploma cover because we are apparently not to be trusted with our actual diploma until we turn in our cap and gown, is sure to be one of the greatest feelings on the face of this planet. I just wish I was valedictorian or some other person that can make a speech, so I can look my mom right in the eye while on stage and say "I told you I wasn't worthless." That'd just be kickass.

Again, I digress. This isn't about my mother. When Mrs. Fallon said that to me, that it was only about me, I actually stopped to think about how I would feel if I didn't walk. Sure, I'd be proud for standing up in what I believed in, but it would eventually dwindle down to regret. While I realize it's only symbolic of one actually graduating, there's just something about participating alongside everyone, hearing the watered-down version of pretty much every valedictorian speech from movies, and not being allowed to cheer for your friends for finally making it that gives you a warm happy feeling inside.

Ever since I was little, one of my goals would be to do the robot once I accepted my diploma onstage. And now, I realize that is completely asinine and immature. Which usually doesn't stop me, but this time it will, because it is also coupled with the "impossibility" factor. See, there's no possible way for me to do the robot onstage when I accept my diploma, because as I have stated before, it's only a diploma cover. The actual diploma is given to us after the ceremony, backstage where no one can see you, only after you give back your cap and gown.

Which basically kicks every movie stereotype, expectation and cliche back to Narnia, I suppose, but at the same time it kicks out a tiny bit of the authenticity.

I don't think I'm ready, honestly. Ready to leave, that is. I will, I won't try and fail just to stay in high school a couple more days, but it means I'll be thrust directly into life. And while I've learned, on my own and harshly, may I add, to rely on myself and not those I lived with, at the same time I've been taught by other people to lean on others.

As I step away from the halls of education and toward the American workforce, I look back with fond memories of high school, sad feelings at what I'm leaving behind, and regrets for the opportunities I've missed.

As I near the goals I seek, I look onward with blurred hope, cautious anticipation, and great apprehension for my future.

And at the end of the day, I go to sleep thinking of the present, leaving behind all my worries and fears.

In Lieu Of A Lack Of Inspiration

2008-05-11T00:19:00.003-04:00

I'd like to talk to you all about Kindergarten days. You know the times that most stick out will probably be naptime and recess. But what sticks out most in my mind is the ability to walk up to somebody you've never met, ask if you could play with them, and then suddenly be best friends.

Now if you so much as wish a stranger a good day, they look at you like you're a rapist.

While I realize that we live in a time where a stranger coming up to talk to you just randomly has the possible risk of being mutilated, and in no way am I saying trust everyone, at the same time I'm not saying distrust everyone. I wish people "Good day" because I want people to be happy. Honestly, to have a good day.

So all those who read this, please, have a good day. Don't let things get you down. Depression kinda sucks.

A Letter To The School

2008-04-30T19:59:00.004-04:00

To whom it may concern,

There has been an issue about why I have been coming to first period neither A Day nor B Day, an essentially missing six classes each of Earth/Space Sci. Hon and English IV, or what is now known as “Senior English.” There is a real reason and an honest reason, the real reason being my already financially distressed home has faulty wiring, and recently that’s been affecting me, causing my alarm clock to shut off randomly during the night, and not waking me until well past eight. And as we have no money for gas or bus fare, I am then condemned to walk and don’t get to school until around nine thirty.

When you read the above, you see it as nothing but a blatant excuse, and me pretending it is anything but is offensive. Which is why I’m thoroughly acknowledging that I actually could be trying harder to wake up, finding other ways to get to school, and imploring my elder friends who have already graduated high school to give me a ride. Which brings me to my honest reason.

In all honesty, I found this “inconvenience” as an opportunity to not come to class. Not that I find anything wrong with the subject or yourself, the teachers, but rather I find something wrong with my peers and the class itself. At times, the sheer size of both leaves me feeling harrowed, intimidated, and slightly claustrophobic, while at others the very people I’m forced to associate with gives me an undeserved feeling of superiority and contempt. There are occasions at which I feel I am actually losing brain cells, due to the inevitable gossip-mongering, the conversations about how much a car smells like chocolate-chip cookies, and certain people complaining about their love-life to me. It comes in turn that I become so irritated towards said offenders that it’s any wonder I’m able to control myself and not start a huge and incessant hate-fest.

When I failed both classes and was offered Accelerated Learning for the two courses in the beginning of this quarter, I was so biased towards both that I had reservations about joining, and thought I would just take the courses online next year. I did join, however, and during my first class actually found it freeing and mitigating. It had a sense of individuality, and because I could rewind and review the lectures at will, it gave me a sense of control. I could take the course at my own pace, which, though I was able to in both classes, I found myself unable.

In English, to do so would mean to have to stay after school or after class, which I found I really had no incentive to do so, as staying after school would mean missing work and staying after class would mean missing Drama. I had no urge to do either. Missing work would mean missing payment, which I so desperately needed due to the aforementioned poor financial status of my family, as well as my need to save money to rent my own apartment and move out. Missing Drama, on the other hand, was not in the slightest what I wanted, because Drama is actually a class I enjoy and am expecting to pursue a career in.

To ask for help in Science would, unfortunately, subject me to a never-ending tirade of insults and put downs, and no matter how good-natured they are, there’s only so much one can take before snapping and yelling back. I fail to understand why people such as David and Jon pick on me for the sole reason that I won’t fight back. In comparison, admittedly, this reason pales, but despite the argument that I shouldn’t let such comments get to me, the fact remains that they do, and I had no desire to give any more excuses to make me feel like a worm.

I passed the first semester of Earth/Space Science in three days, with an 81% average. English, on the other hand, took me nearly two weeks, though I am 92% finished with the course, with only one more test left and a 91% average. And I still believe I’m retaining the knowledge. I think that I would be able to pass, despite the conflict in subject matter, that if a test for the first semester were submitted to me again, I would still be able to pass.

I began wondering if I could merely ask to drop both Earth/Space Sci. Hon and Senior English for the purpose of taking both classes in Accelerated Learning. If I could finish one semester of Science in three days and one semester of English in two weeks, it goes to follow logically that I would be able to finish the second semester of both in the same or similar amount of time. Given that there are approximately three weeks left in school, this seems a logical course of action.

And yet, I am discouraged in this solely because they feel I “will not be able to complete and fully comprehend the subject matter in that amount of time.”

Isn’t this up to me? I have taken the time to write this letter to try and persuade others to let me attempt this, as I feel it is the best choice available to me currently. I realize the reasons and excuses I have given are, at best, adolescent and redundant in the grand scheme of the education of the whole student body, but I do not feel compelled to complete any course in which I am forced to suffer unnecessarily. The more individual approach that Accelerated Learning offers appeals to me, and I feel I can walk away with more accomplished than if I were forced, yet again, to sit in a crowd of my peers trying to control my rage and frustration.

Sincerely,
J.C.X.D.R.

No Sympathy

2008-04-27T20:49:00.002-04:00

I have no sympathy for those who dive into relationships after knowing a guy for a week, then whine and complain when he turns out to be a complete douche. I also have no sympathy for girls who decide to lump all guys together when one screws her over.

Case in point? A friend of mine decides to date someone I knew to be a womanizer and a cheater, I decided to warn her. And she reacted by calling me jealous and stopped talking to me.

First off, arrogant much? You think I'm jealous because I told you the truth about a person? Good job.

When he finally cheated on her, instead of crying their way and begging my forgiveness and mercy, they decided to rant and rave on MySpace about how "all guys love to lie" and "men should just die."

While I will try and be understanding as to the fact that her boyfriend had just screwed her over, at the same time I fail to understand the complete lack of subtlety on their part. And in my anger, I therefore began to verbally bash them until they were nearly reduced to tears.

I'm sorry, I just can't be nice to someone who stops talking to me for trying to warn them about something bad, then totally decides to lump all guys together for what one idiot did.

So screw off.

Allow Me A Moment

2008-04-24T20:05:00.003-04:00

Before reading this, please read this blog to get exactly what I'm ranting about: http://blog.dayofsilence.org/2008/04/why-day-of-silence-exists.html. And if you comment asking what I'm talking about, I will rip you a new one for being an incompetent retard.

First off, I'd like to point out that nobody is pushing anything onto anyone. This is a protest. Merely a protest. And as a matter of fact, it's a silent protest. Nobody is holding up picket signs or rioting or going around saying the gay lifestyle is better. And if you know someone who is, if you know a gay person who's going around to every straight person trying to turn him, then by all means bring him to me so I can slap him. Because no lifestyle is better than the other. It's just life, so live it the fucking way you want. And don't try to force other people towards your way of thinking, especially through force. All this silent protest wants is peace.

Onto the subject of religion, which is the counter-argument that everyone seems to throw at you when you mention this. Now, I'm not an avid Bible reader. I try to do my best to be a good person. I follow the Ten Commandments, as well as the Golden Rule, but I am clearly not a man of perfection, and I make mistakes. I apologize for these faults, and I try and forgive myself for my wrong-doings. And as I am not an avid Bible reader, I do not know where in the Bible it speaks out against sexual deviancy, nor do I know if it even clearly defines what sexual deviancy is. For all we know, by sexual deviancy, it merely means screwing a chicken. But what I do know is that it clearly does not say anything about sexual orientation in the Ten Commandments, the laws held above all. And one of those Commandments, and I quote, is "Thou shalt not kill." So even if it does forbid homosexuality in the Bible, killing is still a greater sin. So go ahead. If you're right, and God does punish us, then go right on ahead and kill us. I just can't wait to see you in a deeper ring of hell.

But out of all the scandalous, depraved, and terrible remarks made, this was by far the worst. "...that 15-year-old Larry King pretty much got what he deserved..."

No one deserves to be shot. Ever. No one deserves to be discriminated against for anything, no matter what. These kinds of thoughts are what sparked such events as the Crusades, the Holocaust, the Detroit Riot, the 12^th Street Riot, and so forth. And my friend? Here's something for you to think about. We don't see what we want to see. On the contrary, we want to see less of what we do see. And remarks such as yours does nothing but to clarify, what you call, our perverseness opinion on how the world is run. Perhaps it's you who sees only what you want to see. "Boys should act like boys and dress like boys, and girls should dress like girls"? Yes, so you basically want to go the exact opposite of the sexual equality revolution, hmm? Don't you dare condone the murder of anyone, especially the murder of a teenager, committed by another teenager. To basically praise this boy for his criminal actions is nothing short of disgusting.

I Can't Do That

2008-04-24T14:36:00.003-04:00

While I'm not one to complain about how I look, and I'd rather berate others for not being anywhere near as confident as they should be, there are certain times, I've found, when you just feel awkward and out of place.

And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Mind you, I'm not trying to be hypocritical here. As a matter of fact, I'm being quite the opposite. When you're generally happy about the way you look, and happy with life and everything like that, then the occasional moment when you just don't feel your best is just fine. I'd assure you that you have no reason to fret about your looks, and then leave you well alone.

However, when you are constantly putting yourself down, and I'm forced to listen to how crappy your hair is every twelve seconds when it looks exactly the same as it did the day before and you had no problem with it then, that's when I start to get slightly ticked off.

Do not get me wrong. I am not so arrogant that I would state to never fall into one of these depressions. I did so today, as a matter of fact. It was during musical theater, when we choreographing "Cabaret." We had to act sexy. We had to do sexy poses. We had to be sexy.

Which I just can't do. I find myself handsome, cute in that bookish way, so on.

But not sexy. So I just felt excruciatingly awkward.

I'm over it now, I suppose. But it's interesting to see how five minutes can change your mood entirely.

Toes

2008-04-24T08:10:00.002-04:00

I don't understand, in the midsts of biology and anatomy, what exact purpose toes fulfill. They're much like the appendix. See, for humans, we're not sweet. We can't use our feet to swing from tree to tree like monkeys can.

I mean, have you seen those? They're awesome!

But for humans, not so much. Of all the extremeties we've got, the most useful would be fingers. I mean, toes don't even succeed in keeping balance. You always see those TV comedy shows where, when somebody gets their big toe chopped off, they can no longer ever stand up without falling on their face.

Admittedly, that's really funny. But inaccurate.

I know a person who knew a person who knew a guy without toes. And he lived a full life.

Am I lying? Perhaps.

But you will never know that.

The Thousand Hats Soul Mate

2008-04-23T12:52:00.004-04:00

During the Florida Vocal Association State-wide Music Performance Assessment yesterday, I ran into a girl with apparently my same type of humor. After our show choir performance, which was a medley of A Chorus Line, we packed up all our crap and proceeded to head out the door. We incorporated a bunch of what I like to call "sweetness hats," and I took all thirty-five of them, stacked them one on top of the other, then placed the tower of hats upon my head. I then went on to congratulate everyone from Clay High School, who had performed before us, and I found them quite good.

One blonde girl, assumedly a sophomore or junior, as she was considerably shorter than me and mentioned that their show choir was performing the song "One" next year. I enjoyed talking to her for a while, and I promised to go to the show when it happened. Which I am totally capable of doing, seeing as I have friends that I visit regularly who live in Clay County.

Walking outside of the building, I heard the blonde girl, who's name was Kaci (spelling may be wrong), calling me over, claiming she had found my soul mate. Turning, I saw another girl beside her, also from Clay High School (I could tell from the same dresses, for those who were stupid and couldn't figure that out), who was likewise wearing a tower of "sweetness hats" on her head. We both flipped out, fist pounded it, and chatted it up. I told her, Abbi (again, I'm probably wrong at spelling her name), of my promise to see their show next year.

All in all, it was a relatively awesome day. It's interesting what a bunch of hats can do to bring people together.

The Mayport Median

2008-04-20T12:45:00.003-04:00

For those who don't live in Jacksonville, or for those who do live in Jacksonville but are blissfully unaware of the goings-on in the city, the city has decided to build a median for Mayport Road. If you're an idiot and don't know what a median is, think of any major road you've been on. The median is that cemented thing in the middle of the street separating the two lanes that basically forces you to drive a mile and a half to find an opening and make a u-turn to get to wherever you want to go.

I'm assuming this median is now possible because of that stupid education amendment taking money away from the arts department. So while I'm stuck selling as much freaking candy as possible, the city has decided to make my life even more miserable with its stupid construction of the stupid median.

They're reasoning behind this median is that it'll help regulate traffic. This is the exact same reason they gave so long ago when they built A1A on Mayport Road, and traffic is now worse than ever.

I'd like to take this opportunity to tell everyone that while a median does control traffic, it does it in such a way that it basically directs them away from small businesses. I've never been a big supporter of small businesses, but at the same time I would never wish ill on someone's only source of income. Directing traffic towards already successful corporations such as Dunkin' Donuts and making it harder to get to small businesses will, eventually, bankrupt those businesses.

Without the median, the only people who go to these small businesses, who must be more expensive as they need some source of income, would be people who support small businesses. When the median makes it harder to get to these small businesses, eventually the line of thinking will be "Why am I going through the trouble of going to this (enter name of random small food store here), where everything is so much more expensive, when there's an opening in this median right next to a Food Lion, which is much cheaper than (that one place)?"

So basically, once it was decided to anal rape the arts department of schools by taking money away from them, making them work three times as hard to pay for the exact same things, the city decided to anal rape other people by inconveniencing them with the construction of this stupid median. It's inconvenient, unnecessary, and tedious, and I don't see why, out of all the options available after the arts' budget cut, they decided to go with this.

Gross

2008-04-15T23:53:00.002-04:00

I'd just like to say, right now, that turkey is the greatest sandwich ingredient on the face of this planet. Not to belittle ham and roast beef and that stuff, but turkey by far kicks butt. And if you disagree, that's fine, you're entitled to your opinion, and I will respect your opinion. But as I have just said that I'm not always right and other meats are enjoyable, if you comment on this trying to just bash my preference in sandwich fillings, I will kill anyone you have ever known. And that includes just people you've passed on the streets. So basically I will annihilate any city that you have ever lived in.

To the government keeping tabs on this, that was totally a joke. I wouldn't even know where to begin if I wanted to.

That being said, there is one thing that just ruins all sandwiches. Bologna.

And I don't even know the correct way to spell it. I mean, I've seen "bologna," as well as "baloney." It's so odd. That's how much of a mystery bologna is. No one knows how it's actually spelled. Or even how it's created.

Gross.

Graduation Pangs

2008-04-10T19:16:00.003-04:00

I am a senior this year, and as such I have gone through a bunch of things that most everyone I know has referred to as "a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." Which explains my friend's constant marriages and divorces. What, isn't a wedding also supposed to be a "once-in-a-lifetime opportunity" as well?
But this is about my thoughts, not my friend's epic disappointments and failures.
For example, prom. Sure, maybe with that particular name. But at my prom, I honestly felt like I was basically just clubbing with more formal clothing. And how did I feel this way? One slow dance. One. And that was only because of the homecoming king and queen's spotlight dance, where everyone had to slow dance during that. It was essentially clubbing.
Not to say it wasn't fun, it was. It just didn't feel like a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity.
The reason I started this rant is because of a certain counter-argument someone presented me. But before this, you might want the entire back-story.
Basically, one day I was being hassled by some stupid company to buy graduation invitations and such stuff, and I thought it ridiculous. Why would I spend $50 to mail stuff to family and friends when I could accomplish the same feat for free by calling and saying "Hey, it's on this date."
I was listening blankly until the decided to pester me about shelling out $75 for my cap and gown. I was confused for a second, and asked, "Wait, you mean to keep?"
"No, to wear," a blank silence following.
"I have to pay $75 for an outfit that I'm going to wear for an hour and a half of my life, not counting rehearsals, which I must give back afterwards?"
She looked slightly taken aback. "Well... Yes."
"And isn't a cap and gown sort of necessary to, you know, walk at graduation?"
Her face began to show signs of nervousness. Obviously no one else had questioned this. "I... I suppose."
"So essentially, you're asking me to pay seventy-five dollars to participate in a ceremony which I have already earned the right to be in by surviving the trials and tribulations of high school, correct?"
"Er... yes...."
And that's when I flew off the handle. "You greedy-ass company." And I walked out.
There are several cultures with a rite of passage. It varies between them all, but all involves suffering through some kind of trial before you earn the privilege of participating in the ceremony. Absolutely no culture in the universe, after you've suffered, asks for your pet chicken in return for letting you hold a hot coal between your legs.
It's absolutely ridiculous to think that after I've gone through all the prerequisites needed to graduate, they can just say, "Oh yeah, and if you don't give us money, you can't walk." First off, it's completely unfair to the families that can't afford to take their kid to school everyday. I know a couple of kids who can't walk at graduation because they can't pay for the cap and gown because their parents have to save every penny for, you know, bills. And other important stuff. Like food. That's slightly necessary to survive.
Now, these kids are still graduating, as I am, but they won't be able to participate in a ceremony they've earned to be in, basically because they're poor.
So this is my protest.
To the people providing our caps? And our gowns?
Go play with your simian cousins.

The Universe Shall End

2008-04-09T14:23:00.003-04:00

So I get a case of food poisoning today and am forced to stay home from school, despite me actually wanting to go, if only to avoid the inevitable huge pile of work awaiting me when I finally arrive at what I believe to be pretentious, boring, and slightly egotistical. When you only have this job in lieu of the fact that you can't do anything else and you need money, then you really have no right to be egotistical. And no, I'm not talking of the few teachers who actually enjoy teaching, because I actually had a few of those. To Mrs. Chalker, Mrs. Andrews, Mr. Ming, Mrs. Palmer, Mrs. Diver, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Stanford, good job and keep going.

But then there are those inerrant jerk-offs who are so obviously bored with their subject that they end up being boring when they teach, causing me to lose interest and then having to work twice as hard just so I don't ditch the damn subject and end up just lazing around on my butt all day watching reruns of Full House.

There's something severely gratifying when calling out a teacher, especially if they have that infuriating "I'm always right and you never will be" attitude. Hell, I had a teacher who was so stupid, she actually said that to me. Actually, she said, "I'm always right and you're never wrong."

I got detention for calling her out on it and calling her a bunch of unkind names for not being nice to anyone in her class and not knowing the subject matter.

Keep in mind that I am not telling anyone to bitch out their teachers, because there are actually a lot of good teachers out there. But please, for the love of God, don't just sit there and take verbal abuse when it happens.

Croûtons

2008-04-06T23:59:00.003-04:00

I'd like to extend a hand to whoever the hell was drunk enough to stare wonderingly at a pile of lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, parsley, maybe onions, perhaps some celery, and thought "Hey, you know what'd go great with this? Hard, crunchy bread!"

I'd like to thank that man.

Because it was probably him that sired me.

Not that I'm a big fan of salads, mind you. If given the choice, I'd much rather go for a burger, much to the dismay of my vegetarian and vegan friends. But if they're going to judge me on my eating habits, they might as well be judging me on my ethnic background! Which is still under speculation, considering I'm an Asian male who's tall, looks nothing like an Asian, and struggles with math.

But I stray. As much as I'd rather have a burger over a salad, I'm addicted to croûtons.

If they could make a giant bag that was just that, I'd flip out.

Poll Results

2008-04-04T22:14:00.004-04:00

I have had three polls up for about the past month, and allow me to rant about the results here:

1. You are faced with an odd problem. A friend is sleeping, and you somehow just know that if you don't kick them as hard as you can in the ribs, they will never wake up. You can never tell them the truth. What lie will you tell?
a) "There was a black widow on your chest." (1 Vote 11%)
b) "You remind me of my ex-girl/boyfriend." (2 Votes 22%)
c) "I have a rare disease that makes my knee feel like it sometimes gets hit by one of those rubber mallets that doctors have." (3 Votes 33%)
d) "I fell asleep standing up and dreamed I was running." (0 Votes 0%)
e) "You were snoring." (3 Votes 33%)
f) "Hey, moron, I've been shouting and gently nudging you for the past half hour and nothing happened, so I figured, why not?" (7 Votes 77%)
g) "I thought I heard the devil in you." (3 Votes 33%)

Excuse me while I tither for a moment. Why, for the love of god, did the majority of people go for the most believable one? You just kicked one of your best friends in the ribs as hard as you could! There's no excuse to that! The only way you could possibly get out of this is to make them laugh, and even that has it's downfall considering his ribs are probably in intense pain right now. Unless you're like me and couldn't fight your way through a spider web, in which case I'd have to tell you to start working out, then proceed to slap myself in the face with a large slice of fruitcake for being hypocritical. And if having a friend becoming a mortal nemesis because you couldn't talk your way out of this situation appeals to you, then allow me to shove my monitor up your throat because you are officially a jerk. That's right, up, because thrusting something down your throat would be too easy and homo erotic a punishment for you.

2. The following question will decide whether I like you or not. What is your favorite Nintendo series?
a) The Legend of Zelda (1 Vote 20%)
b) Mario platformers (0 Votes 0%)
c) Metroid (0 Votes 0%)
d) Mario Party (0 Votes 0%)
e) Donkey Kong (0 Votes 0%)
f) Pokemon (1 Vote 20%)
g) Super Smash Bros. (3 Vote 60%)
h) Advance Wars (0 Votes 0%)

I'm severely mixed on this, for while I'm slightly ticked that more people went for the Smash Bros. series as opposed to The Legend of Zelda, I am so glad that nobody went for Mario Party. Anyone who thinks these games are anything but trite, pointless, redundant, and unoriginal, then you might as well curl up in the corner of the room and die slowly, because there's no point in me coming down there to kill you myself. And I blame the gaming world in general, because of your incessant need to buy these games, therefore telling the developers that they're actually good and deserve sequels. And as for those of you who'd rather play Smash Bros. than The Legend of Zelda, do not mistake me. Those three games are in no way bad, they're very fun with a simple enough scheme for young ones to join in while still remaining complicated enough to please the hardcore gamer. It's cute, colorful, and quirky, but I still would much prefer the epic one-player adventure than the multi-man brawler, perhaps because I'm a lonely loser with no actual friends and just people who tolerate my company and existence. And if I know the gaming community at all, I'm pretty sure my description fits a majority of you, because as you sit at your computer reading this, I'll bet blood that you just stood up in protest, then sat back down panting heavily.

3. If you want to marry your true love, every six months, someone will come along with a heavy wrench and shatter your collarbone. The only way to avoid this is to take a pill that causes you to hear everything like they're Alvin and the Chipmunks, including yourself.
a) Do you take the pill? (5 Votes 45%)
b) Do you avoid the pill and marry the girl? (5 Votes 45%)
c) Do you run as far away from the girl as possible? (1 Vote 9%)

Every single person who voted to avoid the pill and marry anyways, I absolutely can't wait to attend your funeral. A collarbone that has been shattered cannot possibly heal completely in such short a time as six months, and therefore would more than likely kill you once this man comes back. And for those who only voted to avoid the pill as to be jerks, saying "Hey, I'll just pick up a shotgun when this guy comes near," I'd like to direct your attention at a little part in the question that stated "the only way to avoid this," indicating that guy is more than likely immortal. You're a complete douche for not joining in for the fun of things, and I applaud the one guy who runs away, indicating he'd rather live life as a bachelor than have to deal with either of those cock-up choices.

Nickelodeon, Wherefore Art Thou?

2008-03-26T22:55:00.003-04:00

I realize that I've rated my own blog to be G, and under normal pretenses, that'd be true. However, right now I'm so ticked that occasionally, and by that I mean frequently, a fantastic slew of curse words will fly out of my mouth that some will find offensive, graphic, and just plain unnecessary. Having said that, I'd like to point out that you are in no way obligated to read this, therefore if you find yourself reading this, it is under no way through my influence, so if you try to yell at me for using such graphic language I'll come at you with a barrage of legal jargon leaving you feeling weak, slow, and retarded. You are completely free to shut this off at any point, but just in case you're a parent whose child has just dropped the F-bomb in front of you, I'd first like to ask, "Why the bloody fuck aren't there child-protection-blocky things on you computer?" and finish it off with a gratifying kick to the balls when I call your kid a retard for uttering such language in front of you, therefore implying that he enjoys being beaten and gets it up for S&M. You have been warned.

I'd like to start this rant off by calling all the Nickelodeon producers errant cocksuckers, as what was once a nice network directed at a generally younger audience starring a bunch of teenagers with nothing else left to do in their lives has become a drastically dirty network filling its space with shows that are not only completely following a Dan Schneider formula, but also subtly glorifying sex, cell phones, staying up late, and generally being a complete dick to all of your friends and family. It also manages to not only enhance some general stereotypes about people and the television network, but creates entirely new stereotypes.

For example, the entire line up of every single show on Nickelodeon currently is made of nobody but rich people who can somehow afford everything their greedy fucking hands can get hold of. Which makes me wonder just where that money is coming from, because it seems to me that if they can just somehow masturbate wealth, the United States economy would crash around my great fucking ass. Not to mention that every single person seems to be white, aside from the completely stereotypical black manager portrayed in Drake & Josh, and the one black kid attending boarding school in Zoey 101 who apparently can't even manage to hold a normal conversation without dicking it up with completely stupid antics.

I used to be a follower of Nickelodeon, ever since I watched it as a kid, but the entire line-up has changed from cutesy kids stuff like a character made up of popsicle sticks to complete fucktards and douche-fags who do nothing but anal rape each other with formulaic jokes. And for the moronic population of America, which would be the majority of you, that means that while before each Nickelodeon show had its own formula and freshness, now if you've watched one, you've seen them all. Literally.

While I realize exaggeration is what makes television entertaining, there is a point where exaggeration becomes so stupid that the only people who would even possibly believe anything like that could happen are drug addicts high on LSD, lacking air to the brain because they spend too much time choking on their own bodily fumes and dildoes. Nickelodeon has taken the situational comedy and stretched it beyond the scope of believability and to the point where you basically spend half the show wondering what the fuck you'd do if something like that actually happened.

At some point in 2007, Nickelodeon producers decided to turn every single one of their characters into either a huge bitch or a whiny dickhead. The character Zoey, at one point the smartest, wittiest, and nicest character on the show, has suddenly become a giant whore, leading one person on from across seas and somehow managing never to mention him again after the first episode of the new season, as well as becoming a grudge-holding bitch who will stop at nothing to get back at said offender. They enhanced the stereotype of the cool guy with Drake, who has the mystic power of making any girl he wants to make out with him. Which only leads little boys to the fantasy that if they play the guitar they can get girls. I have lived through life to know that if you even try and make out with a girl that you haven't even seen before, the only thing you'll procure is a swift and invading testicular removal operation right on the spot.

Which brings me to the point on the effect its having on my little brother and sister. My eight-year-old brother is starting to think that all black people talk in a higher register and enjoy white rockers, or decide that dumping ten gallons of mustard on somebody is funny. My sister thinks that you can just make out with anyone and not suffer consequences. I find this very disturbing.

When we get to the point that the next generation becomes nothing but idealistic hookers and pimps with ideas that nobody wanted instilled in anyone, I'm going to be lording it over you all laughing and saying, "I fucking called it."

Do Not Take This Post Lightly

2008-03-22T21:51:00.002-04:00

Be warned, this blog may contain some material that you may find inappropriate, and if you do then you have been grossly sheltered as a child.

Because you, ladies, are freaking teases. We all know this to be true, and I refuse to argue about this.

Or maybe it's just me. After all, people do enjoy tormenting me.

At any rate, I've found that whenever I'm on instant message with a girl, whenever they have to get off, it's never for things like "I have to eat," or "I'm heading to a friends house."

It is always, without fail, "I have to go take a shower."

I don't understand, first of all, why every time a girl has to stop IMing, it's for a shower. I mean, I usually have to get off for sleep, or work, or I have plans with friends. On the rare occasion that I do have to get off to take a shower, I wouldn't announce that to the world! I would say something along the lines of "I've gotta go real quick, okay? I'll be back."

As a teenage boy full of unstable hormones, there are certain phrases that trigger, for lack of a better word, images.

"I've gotta go take a shower" is once such phrase.

As a teenage boy with morals, every time someone says such things, I have to go pray. Then take a cold shower. Then douse myself in ice water. Then start bashing my face in with a tire iron.

It usually has to get to the fourth option.

It's not like that I would care all that much, but unfortunately, it always happens. Every time a girl gets off, they absolutely have to mess with me. I mean, really.

It kinda sucks.

They Just Keep Getting Younger

2008-03-19T16:28:00.002-04:00

So my twelve-year-old sister now has a MySpace account.

And while I was skeptical at first, because of the online dangers, she at least asked my permission and asked my help to make hers as private as possible.

And I did. I did everything I could to make her account as private as humanly possible. Though there are some stupid hackers out there, it still makes it so that you can't add her unless you know her.

Seriously, though... twelve years old? I mean, you already have a Gaia account, a Neopets account, something having to do with dolls, and every other thing on the Internet.

I tend to find this slightly retarded..

But it's her life. I can give her advice and protect her when she's stupid, but that's really all I can do.

At any rate, I just had these random thoughts and had to talk to people about them.

The Wonders Of Computer Solitaire

2008-03-18T12:39:00.003-04:00

I must say, that probably has wasted more time in my life than anything else on the face of the planet. Whenever I have something major to do, a report for example, there are four windows open: Microsoft Word, a website with my research topic, MySpace, and Solitaire.

As an excuse of having a slow computer, whenever I have to wait for vast amounts of time for something to load, I go onto my Solitaire and "pretend" I'm waiting for it to load when in reality I'm just trying to stave off my boredom in any way possible.

I find it interesting how much time a simple game like Solitaire can take up. For me, it takes an average of 90-150 seconds to win a game. Add to that the minute or so of the cards bouncing around while you pretend to be interested while secretly hoping that every bit of green is covered by apparently magical digital cards, and you have a full four minutes wasted "waiting" for you page to load.

It brings up the issue, for me at least, about how much time I actually waste "waiting" for a page to load, or someone to message me back on MySpace, or for someone to get on AIM, or just any reason. Not to mention the thousands of people with office jobs who play just to pass the time.

So while the next-gen games and movies and all this stuff is so obviously more entertaining, and all these politicians are saying how much of a time-waster they are, it is Solitaire, my friends, that is a much bigger time-waster. And is that really such a big deal?

Big Yellow Taste?

2008-03-16T21:57:00.002-04:00

I never did understand why the tagline for Corn Pops was "Big Yellow Taste, Sweet Puffed Crunch!"

Seriously? I mean, it makes no sense. First off, how can something "taste" like a color? I don't understand the concept behind that. That's like saying you can smell when someone's about to have a bed-wetting accident. You can't smell anything until it actually happens.

Which is actually kinda gross, now that I think about it.

Secondly, marshmallows are puffy as well, but I've never known one to crunch in my mouth. In fact, if I bit down on a marshmallow and heard a crunch noise I'd vomit. I can't understand why the words "puffed" and "crunch" are being used simultaneously to describe something.

Just a random thought.

Prom, 2008

2008-03-16T00:58:00.003-04:00

To protect those in this blog from online predators, MySpace idiots, and ghosts that originate in chain letters, all names of people and places have been altered.

It's times like this that I wish there was a blog category entitled "Time of My Freakin' Life." Because prom last night was quite possibly the most fun I ever had at a school-sanctioned event. And why is this? I can sum it up in one tiny little sentence:
I didn't freak out about it!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's true, when you stress less you have more fun. If there's one thing I've learned about prom, it is this: It is nothing but a more expensive Homecoming. While we've grown up being told that "Prom will be the most magical event of your life," that's total and utter bull, not to mention demeaning towards your wedding night and honeymoon. Yes, prom is exquisite and a hell of a lot better than homecoming, if not just for the simple fact that the dance floor is bigger than the gym and the entire place isn't crawling with freshmen and sophomores. And yet, it's just a school-sanctioned social event in which adolescent human beings attend to make complete morons of themselves.
Take me for example. Throughout the night, I went up to couples dancing and asked "May I cut in?" And the guy would step aside.
And then I would freak them both out by booty dancing on the dude.
The essence of this event, I believed, was to have fun. Nothing but that. I guess having a date is cool too, but it wasn't important and honestly, I thought it just added to the stress. Everyone I knew with a date did nothing and talked about nothing how to make themselves look the best they can be.
Allow me to pause for a second and rant about that phrase. "Look the best you can be"? Wrong. What it should be is "Look the best you can afford." Keep in mind that not all of us have rich-ass families that can snap their fingers to make a freakin' sweet new limo come out of nowhere to ferry us at our will wherever we want until prom time. Not to mention some of the girls had to wear either hand-me-down prom dresses or their homecoming dress from two years ago.
Growing up without as much money as other people doesn't exactly humble you, but it does put things in a different perspective. Like I guess I can understand why you would shell out a few hundred dollars for the perfect dress and coolest limo, but it just reminds me of that one auto insurance commercial: "If you can have this (scene of something really good happening) for the same price as this (scene of something really cruddy happening), why wouldn't you?"
In the end, a limo is just a fancier mode of transportation. And seriously, ours was kind of lame. It was a bus with a bar. And it wasn't even a stocked bar! We had to provide our own drinks!
But back to the date thing: it's cool and all that you want to impress your date, but I think I had more fun by the sole fact that I didn't have one. I didn't have to worry about impressing anyone! Do you know what I wore? My chorus outfit. It fit the criteria! It was a tux shirt and tux pants! Do you know what it cost me? $25 fair share for chorus that I paid in the beginning of the year.
Not kidding.
And don't start with the whole "Well, you're a guy," bull, because if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, sexual equality has to go both ways. Not to mention that I know three girls who bought $20 worth of make-up and then wore a dress they've worn before. So just shush.
At any rate, the dance was a lot of fun. I danced with everyone I knew, and even danced with girls that I was introduced to that night. I came super close to hooking up with someone, but didn't. 'Cause I have principles, damn it! Heh, well, I have some principles.
Some events that stand-out in my mind?
Ryan dancing crazily on the floor with me on top of him.
Me stage diving. That was cool.
Dancing nonstop from the moment I got there to the moment the dance ended.
Dancing for about half an hour with this girl. Then for another half hour with this other girl. Then for another hour with Bobby.
Freaking Kristin out. That was a high point, not gonna lie.
Coming a millimeter close to making out with a girl I just met that night and pulling away at the last second.
Seriously, as the night drew to a close, I was in a state of disembodied content. Because the following sentence I never thought I would hear myself utter, nor type. In fact, before now, if anybody ever used this sentence to describe me, I would deny it incessantly. That sentence?
"I am an f-ing pimp."
Somewhere inside this frail nerd body is an f-ing pimp. But really, isn't there one in us all? Come on, let me show just what I'm made of.