Monday, March 28, 2011

Fancy Eatin'

So I told myself I wasn't going to start with "so", but oh well. Saturday, I attended a celebratory banquet at the Galt House hotel, here in Louisville. Anyone who lives here knows it a one of the fancier hotels, and I do say, it was quite fancy. Especially the food. First, we were served this salad, on weird shaped plates. But besides the fact that it came with dressing on it, I got the idea that the cooks were trying to please everyone. In the top right corner, there were these sweet and salty almonds; in the bottom left, there lied a portion of crumbled bleu cheese; and in the other corners there were two red rasberries. I wasn't really sure what to do with them though; should I just eat them, roll them into my salad, squeeze the juice over the salad, or what. They ended up just sitting on the plate. I was also unsure of what fork to use, as there were three set up around the plate. Apparently rich people can't enjoy their food unless it's set up just right. Then the entree was some kind of chicken, encrusted with something sweet; greean beans; rice; and some kind of red pepper, that I was also unsure of what to do with. As you can imagine, being a po' boy, I was very confused by the whole business. Then the desert was chesecake. Needless to say, only about two women ate the whole slice (I assume for fear of being called fat. Trust me woman, you are fat). But besides cutting part of my suit while attemoting to remove that tags, it was a pretty decent evening. At least I didn't throw up the food.
My rendition of what the setup was like. Drawn in msPaint with the mouse. Forgive me, God.
Song of the Day: Daydreams by (hed) p.e.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Fantastic Four Followers; Poem

First off, I congratulate Mister Collin Farmer for creating an account just to follow me. I feel special. Secondly, today is Kristen and I's one month anniversary. (If I used emoticons, one would be right here. Smiling. Huge.) It's truly amazing, how close two people can get after only one month. Feels a lot shorter though. Thirdly, you all reading should feel horrible, because after ferociously playing the drums for about two hours yesterday evening, I GOT BLISTERS ON ME FINGAS, and it hurts like crazy just to type this. But I'll pardon you this one time. Maybe I'll make a recording of a my practice sometime, and post it. Consider it a treat from me. Besides the treat of my words, which you all have the privelage of consuming on a semi-regular basis. And with that being said, I'm probably gonna post this on a Monday-through-Friday schedule, excluding most weekends. Unless something special happens to me, which I doubt it will. POEM TIME:

Untitled (reccomend for a title, if you want)

As I sit and wait
Drowning in myself
Considering my help misplaced
Or simply lost
But not much good does a lost calvary do
When I stare my enemy in the eyes
Reaching out towards the mirror
I swear my reflection smiled
Just when I felt like crying
But real men shed no tears
This I've learned
Through the painful,
iconoclastic indoctrination
Swimming through this curvilinear,
gyrating space
I'm losing myself
Lost alognside the army sent to rescue me
Strane days
Running through the maze
Shake off the haze
Find yourself

Song of the Day: One Day by Matisyahu

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Why So Cynical?

I'm not a mean person. Just a realist. Fine line sometimes, but my thick skin allows me to be mean to people and still follow the Golden Rule (I always wondered why we don't learn that Jesus first gave us the Golden Rule in elementary). I simply take a realistic approach to life. If you're a teenager, then you're probably stupid. But just because I'm also a teenager doesn't mean I'm a hypocrite, it simply means I'm smarter and more mature than the other teenagers and I'm able to realize and see teen folly at it's finest. Also known as high school. It's kind of sad, really, that most of us young adults don't even realize how foolish we are sometimes. Especially the girls. Now I'm not into masogyny-most of my friends are female, in fact-but I find it hard to believe that they don't realize how silly, overly-emotional, and just plain dumb they are. Sorry women. Please, no angry letters. Or maybe you should send me a few letters. At least then I'd know people are reading this (thanks to the man who does read and comment though, it means a lot). But for now I suppose I'll stick to being all indie and having three followers. Congratulations you three, you are now exclusive.

Song of the Day: Mascara by Deftones

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

(A Few Of) The Things I Hate

  1. Teenage girls. They're all emotional and over-sensitive, to the point of just being a burden on society. Every little thing gets them all worked up and suicidal. Sorry little girl, but your boyfriend was a douche anyway, who cares if he dumped you? Learn what real problems are, and stop whining about how much your life sucks every time you break a nail. Plus they prop up all this stupid stuff, like Justin Beiber, Mean Girls 2, or some other equally talentless production. I wish I could tie them down and play all 1227 songs on my iPod to them. Nonstop for three months. Maybe then they'd have a good sense of culture. Or at least common sense. Not to mention thay dress all slutty, but society has this unwritten rule that you're not supposed to look at them, even if you don't touch them. Why don't we have rules that prohibit twelve year old girls from having D cup boobs, then cramming them into skimpy t-shirts? That's cut down the pedophile rates extremely. I know my thoughts would be a lot cleaner.
  2. Mornings. Every morning, I look at my blaring alarm clock, reading 5:45 in those green, souless letters and moan. I then proceed to pick up the book I fell asleep reading the night before and smash it to pieces. As you can imagine, I spend a lot of money at Best Buy buying replacements. But without that evil piece of machinery dictating my life scedule, I sleep like the baby I never was. Then end up walking to school because the bus driver isn't courteous enough to come to my house, knock on my bedroom door, and make sure I'm ready to board in time. Jerk.
  3. Public School. One thing I remember from the years I was starting school is the feeling of misplacement. I couldn't help but think that I was the only one who felt weird about giving my entire life over to a piece of cloth through verbal contract. But that feeling far from went away. Especially when I entered high school. The ideaology that good "grades=smart child"and "bad grades=dumb child" was so prominent that to this day it makes me sick. My grades were horrible. But I am far from unintelligent, as anyone who truly knows me will tell you. The way public school is run is really not far from the early American days, when simple memorization was considered learning. I consider learning to be when one has grasped the concept enough to be able to efficiently teach others. How many high school graduates do you know that could understand their old textbooks nowadays? If I was in control of molding public school into my own design, first thing I'd do is fire nearly every teacher. I'd then replace the staff wth people who not only love kids, but are loved back by them. School would be a place where students can come to enjoy learning, and learn a lot. Assignments are only given when they are necessary, not to fill up gradebooks. Now, it'd be no perfect utopia, but you can bet your arse you'd wanna come. 
  4. American Prison/Disciplinary System. So, imagine some guy breaks into a co-ed's apartment, rapes her, and steals all her valuables. Goes to jail, right? Ten years or so, then released back into society on probation. Wrong. In my world, the criminal would be flogged severly; one lash for every thrust he had in her, and for every dollar worth of material he stole. That'd teach him a lesson, not hanging around with a bunch of guys and smoking home-made ciggarettes in the exercise yard. I don't understand why America has such a passion for the criminal's rights. Granted, he's still human, and petty crimes can be forgiven. But to me, rape and murder are two nearly inexcusable crimes. That's why I don't believe in the death penalty. But I'd have a man flogged to the point of passing out and feel no remorse.

That's all for now folks, I'll finish it later probably.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Wheel of Fortune Tilts Towards Beauty

While watching the telly last evening, I realized something that was oddly surprising, though it really shouldn't have been: Americans are shamefully superficial. But the sad part is, they're the only ones NOT ashamed of it. It takes some gall for Ellen Degeneres to blatantly say "Inner beauty is important; but not as important as outer beauty" on a Covergirl commercial, especially after we strain to "teach" our children the opposite. Go around and tell pre-teen girls that they need to get plastic surgery because no one wants to marry a chick who looks like a hippo that's been siting in the sun too long, and just cut to the chase. The industry for makeup and anti-aging serums is already monstrous in size and influence anyway, so you might as well push wrinkle-removing cream to high schoolers. If it's not happening already, that is. Granted, outer beauty is not to be ignored (at least for a matter of pubic decency), but I can look over my shoulder right now and see a beautiful girl who's just dumb as fuck. Not even that she doesn't apply her intelligence, she simply doesn't have any. My girlfriend for example, is amazingly beauitful, but simultaneously the biggest nerd you will find (compliment Krsiten, you know I love you). Although, if Cindererlla and Bo Burnham have taught us anything, it's that no matter how stupid or poor you are, you can make it through life as long as you're incredibly hot. Another thing I noticed is that Wheel of Fortune host is a pimp.

EDIT: Song of the Day, "Question! by System of a Down (

Monday, March 21, 2011


It's been several, several internaet decades since you have last read my words. Shame too, cause I love blogging. Just not enought to do it on any regular basis. I've since resorted to sharing my thoughts through numerous Facebook statuses, but as I sat in Computer Applicatons class and tried not to drown in my own vile combination of phlegm and boredom, I stumbled upon a blog. This blog. Inspired by his awesomeness, I procceeded to log on again. After several internet decades, consider this my triumphant return, after conquering the faraway lands and robbing their spoils. Also known as the Kingdom of Perpetual Laziness. Whatever. This will probably become my spot for "publishing" poetry, rants/speeches, and just random blathering. I don't think blathering is a word, but it sounds good.