March of Crimes

I now have a new favorite game. Dan Coughlin, props to you on finding this one:

Don't worry, I'll try not to. Too much.

This game is all about the cutest little puppy ever and your quest to not murder it. This game is actually challenging; I never thought trying to not kill innocent animals would be tricky. Turns out, it certainly is a trying task! Vets have the hardest jobs ever, apparently. I imagine that every veterinarian has to deal with a 50 Cal right over their shoulder all day long, just waiting to pulverize every little doggie that pees on them while they try to give it heart worm medicine.
What's the trick, you ask? I can't tell you that! That's the point of the game! And yes, I beat it. All in 15 minutes. Man I rock.

Could that sign post be any happier? I think not.

So this is how I'm spending my Sunday at work. Keep Holy the Sabbath by keeping puppies alive. And babies. We're doing March of Dimes donations, and so far all the people I've been overly nice to won't donate a dollar. I'm gonna start stepping up my game, and when they say no to my asking if they'd like to donate a dollar, I'll say "Well I hope you enjoy your steak tonight, baby killer. Good thing that dollar couldn't have saved countless babies from being put under since nobody loves them. At least not enough to donate just one of the many dollars you're toting around. But then, I guess money is more important than the well-being and continuation of man kind."

That reminds me of posts that are coming, since I keep forgetting to put them up:

1. My dream two nights ago

2. Pele's Curse and my bad fortune

3. This crazy woman who started yelling and crying at me.

4. The woman after her who gave me a tip after I demanded it.

5. I'm serious, just give me a dollar. For babies.

*Update from Original blog*

This girl who just came in, in lieu of my asking if she'd like to donate to March of Dimes, said "No thanks, I hate babies." Wow. Definitely putting her on my list of heroes.

Jamie Cullum who?

So after a few good days of Dan and I laughing at Jamie Cullum, I finally have to return to work (for a full day). Now, it should be explained that a week ago tomorrow we had a big attendance required meeting (Just once I'd like to see what happens when they don't specificaly say attendance required. Or, rather, hear about what happens 'cause no flippin' way will I be there). A major point of this meeting was to emphasize our new manager's Nazi-like approach to being on time. We're allowed to be ~7 minutes late unless otherwise stated ahead of time. Okay, so maybe a 7 minute window isn't the most Naziesque approach, but after three times we get fired. And that's the part that sucks. And yet this morning I stroll in at my leisurely 7:30 (with a 7:00 start time) and think nothing of it. I think just as much that Jamie Cullum is like a 10-year-old on stage, jumping around with no real intention of entertaining us so much as himself, I'm like that 10-year-old that hears his 200 pound dad frustratingly say "Johnny Stephen McHairdo! Do that one more time and I'll spank you 'till your heart bleeds!", and instead of stopping like any normal human with even the most meager sense of logic, I immediatly do it not just once, but repeatedly as fast as I can until my dad does, indeed, cause my heart to bleed by smacking my rear. Or until I, like Jamie, get bored and move on to something else. Why else would I continue to come in late on every single shift, not finish my car registration, and skip class incessantly?
Oh, and I still haven't bought a new tire. It's like I'm daring it to blow out. When it does it will probably throw my car into opposing traffic. If I were my tire, I would do the same. I love my tire.
In conclusion, Jamie Cullum is too hyper for his own good. Pot calling the kettle African-American.

Why.

When I think of the Aboriginals, I think of an unjust extermination of an innocent race (yeah I know they're not all dead, but man did we do a number on them). When I think of formal lab reports, I think "You know, God must have hit the Aboriginal button on accident. I'm sure He meant to destory lab reports."
I'm serious. This is what I thought about when I got to page 8 of "The yellow pigmentation, coming from the carotenoids Carotenes and Xanthophyll, explained the peak of absorbency at ~570-600 nm. The actual chlorophylls, Chlorophyll A and Chlorophyll B, absorbed probably in the range of ~445-490 nm. The bands below 445 and at 655 would probably belong to auxiliary pigments, creating a masking effect of the actual chlorophylls' absorbencies." Note the key usage of the word "probably" in my scientific write-up, as in I didn't really care to get the facts straight so much as I wanted to have the paper flippin' done. So when 3 AM hit and I was still typing, I decided I could just get up early and finish. Well, I did get up and finish it, but not so much on the early side. I'll be done just in time for lab.
Holy crap, I bet my tire's flat again. I uh... I gotta go.

I am not a nerd.

Just to be sure, these things do not make me a nerd:

1. Learning Visual Basic programming language for fun, just to help Jon out.

2. Getting into a detailed conversation about how a macintosh system with PC hardware (assuming them to be programmed together effectively) would be the goliath of all home computer systems.

3. Downloading and watching the entire 9-hour season of Noir, an older anime, and watching the entire thing in one day.

4. Subsequently downloading the soundtrack to said anime.

5. Doing the previous two stepson the day befor a big exam because I felt like studying that little.

6. Dreaming of the day when I am high enough in a company that i can spend the whole day driving through the office on my Segway and then go play croquet in my three piece suit.

7. Calculate the probability of seeing a car with a liscense plate consisting of three of the same digits in a row on it, and comparing that to how often I actually see them on the road in an given day.

8. Devise strategies for how I might better play lazertag with groups.

9. Play songs on expert in Guitar Hero over and over until I get them to a 5-star rating.

10. Do the same with races in Burnout Revenge.

11. Spend an entire afternoon trying to find a way that I might be able to sing harmony with myself. Brian did it on Family Guy once. I'm insanely jealous.

12. I use Skittles for models in pictures as opposed to people, much less attractive people. And no, I don't find Skittles attractive.

So there. Just letting you know, I am not a nerd.
At least not for those reasons.

My first Dedication!

This post is dedicated to Shannon, who victoriously announced that she's the only one who reads my blog!

Buckle up for the dedication!

Shannon: Shut yo' filthy mouth! Congratulations on being the only one who knows about it. Maybe I don't have a lot of people readin' yet, but at least I update. Looks like you forgot about your own blog 2 months ago. Take that, subspace!

Furthermore, this is your gift to the world: bad knees.

Go ahead, do a google search for my family. You'll find we're prominent doctors (probably making a mint off of your knee disease) and artists. And what's that? I'm of Royal Bloodline? You mean my family history is that of governing over this land? Booya. So, go ahead and make fun of me. When I'm all done crying in the corner, I'll just tell myself how rockin' cool I am.

Like driving without my glasses on

It's pretty much official that SUV drivers are my least favorite on the road. Don't get me wrong, drunk drivers are crazy and dangerous and stupid and all that jazz, but generally when you're driving along and you see Sir Swervo up there, you know he's drunk. But an SUV? That's just an itchy trigger finger on ten cups of coffee. You never know when he's gonna peel out, slam the breaks, take the worlds sharpest turn, etc. For instance, when was the last time you saw an SUV driver use the turn signal? They feel they don't need to. All with good reason to them, I'm sure, as any accident they're in doesn't matter, since your little car can fit right beneath their huge steel chassis. Anyway, to my point: this morning was one of those mornings when the fog seems so thick you find yourself holding your breath in fear of drowning. As I was driving, I'd wait until I could see something in the road, mark my odometer, and then see how far off it was until I got there. It was roughly, but not exactly, one 20th of a mile visibility. Given that there's about 1500 feet to a mile, if memory serves me right (and this would be a milestone if it truly did), that's about 75 feet of visibility. I could spit molasses farther than that. And what do I see emerge from the fog? Nothing but the worlds whitest SUV come peeling over traintracks with no breaking and no headlights. No headlights. I could barely make this guy out as I drove two feet next to him and he decided it wasn't foggy enough for headlights.

I should have hit him right then and there. I hate my car enough to do it, too. But like I said, my car would have merely destroyed itself beneath his. Man I hate SUVs.

Speaking of foggy mornings, I'm pretty sure they're my most favorite morning ever. I could never really figure out why, but I think that today I may have pieced it all together. Mornings are inherently the worst thing ever. Waking up and saying goodbye to dreamworld, and let me tell you my dream world is amazing (last night I just took a three-day long programming class in Sweden. Booya.), is one of the more painful things to have to do, especially when it means leaving amazing comfort and going to work, or worse, class. But foggy mornings seem to have beaten the curve. I mean, if you think about it, it's like you still are dreaming. Like the morning hasn't quite happened to you yet, and then it takes it's time in disappearing all gradually. Perfect way to phase into the day. Speaking of, I once had this awesome dream where it was all foggy and in black and white, but all the people that I talked to were in color. And I had a letter in my hand from an old friend that I read in my dream. Apparently, you're not supposed to be able to read in your dream. Take that, analysts. And Therapists. Analrapists.

man I miss Arrested Development.

yellow car.

Swift left jab followed by a right hook to the jaw. That's two yellow cars, yo.

not quite two months

So it's been only a couple days, and I've returned for more. Not so much because I couldn't get enough, but more because I've gotten enough of the studying. Another exam tomorrow, so what better way to spend my time than writing another lame post? Especially since I've told no one about this blog yet. I'm literally talking to no one. I could say anything.

Monkey spleen goat cheese, car chase bounced check table leg conflagration. Corn on the cob.

Wow. I just said conflagration. That's a big word. I didn't know I had any of those left... See, what's interesting about that is that most people in free writing actually form sentences and thoughts and such, whether they meant to or not. The best I could come up with was "goat cheese" and a big fire. Speaking of big fires, Jon and I (get used to the character Jon, he's probably gonna be more of a main character in these little writings than I myself) went to this bar called The Last Lap yesterday after school on what seemed to be a wild goose chase. Turns out, it wasn't a wild goose chase at all, but rather a domesticated lobster chase. This bar, and I have no idea who thought of this or developed it, but this bar had a claw-game or crane-game or whatever you call one of these with actual live lobsters in it. The entire game was underwater so these tricky little devils could swim out of the claw before we could get them out of the water and into the prize chute. Challenge you say? No challenge to great for Brown and Tweed! Though Jon did most of the hunting. It's in his blood.
Granted that a lobster straight off the menu only cost $22, and at two dollars a round for somewhere around 20 game plays, we may have been better off monetarily to just buy it outright. But as far as pride, thrill of the hunt, and carnal satisfaction are concerned? We spent next to nothing to feast on the our winnings. Kings of the Crustacean world, we made sure the four remaining lobsters in the tank could see us dine upon their brethren, and know that someday we would return. And we would victoriously taste lobster again. And if we learned anything, we would spend much less.

-Edit to Original Post-

As fate would have it, it turns out that this bar was just trying to get on the "everything Asian is cool" bandwagon. These live lobster claw games ar apparently all the rage in Chinese supermarkets. Come on, guys. Seriously.

How is it that China gets all the cool stuff?

and on the 8th day, He created blogs

...and saw that they were not really all that great, and thus struck all record of them from Human knowledge.
And then we have to go and rediscover them. We humans and our pesky nosiness, what with all this inventing and such. We always ruin everything.

So I gave in to the blog. I've fought it off for so long, but after reading a few really funny ones, I decided I should try my hand at being an online author as well. The worst that could happen is a handful of lawsuits and broken friendships. Those were probably coming anyway.

Here's a list of reasons I have decided to get my own blog:

1. I'm funnier than you are, and I'm out to prove it.

2. I'm selfish.

3. I have little time for stupid things. Apparently, a little is still too much, so now i must fill it up with the stupidest thing ever, blogging.

4. I sometimes think back to when I was a little kid and really really really miss the years from 6-12. 13 was stupid, 14 even worse. But 15 on has been pretty darn good, minus the hundreds of traffic tickets . And so I think to myself, if I were twelve again, what would I do? Obvious answer is get my own blog, so I can talk about how unfair my parents are and how my allowance just isn't big enough.

5. It was either this or study. And man, do I hate school. I hate school enough to get a blog instead. That's like pure unadultered hatred.

I guess getting that glorious degree and getting a real job will help finance my need for an internet connection, so in light of that, I really should go study...
I'll see ya at the second post.

Which will either be tonight or tomorrow, or not for another two months. We'll see how I do.