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Doses of Dozes [Oct. 5th, 2007|12:12 am]
Lately, there's been a lot going on for me, it really is a reflection of my popularity. Not in the traditional sense though, where I would be so busy hanging out with friends, smoking pot, and having hot sex but more in the sense where, I have no friends and get constantly beat up in school. Which goes to say, it's not really a reflection of my popularity but situational misalignments that fucking hurt.

I wish all the big scary goth kids would stop extinguishing their cigarettes in my hair, because I'm starting to grow a bald spot (actually de-grow) and I wake up every morning to the crisp scent of sulfur. I mean there are plenty of other kids they could pick on, like the fat ones who keep Snicker's bars in their backpack to munch on when nobody is looking, but you can tell that they have recently been eating a Snicker's bar because when they smile they have chunks of peanut glossed onto their teeth. Or like all kids with Amish relatives. Or even the freshmen!

I'm not sure why I'm particularly a target, I guess it's because I'm a quote/unquote "faggot", at least according to that prick with the nose ring who keeps spitting in my backpack. Whatever.

Today in Driver's Education, I had to do 100 push-ups in class because I came to class without pants. I tried to explain that it wasn't quite my fault that I had my pants, but my teacher didn't believe me. Taking into consideration I'm a pretty feeble kid. I did 2 push-ups and on my 3rd one fainted and had to be rushed to an ER, where the doctors from House M.D. screamed "He's seizing!" and restored me to life. Thank god for overdramatic television.

After my mildly exciting surgery, my doctor walked in and gave me the news straight out; I was pregnant and too weak to conceive, the only shot I had at living was to have an abortion. So I coat-hangered the little bastards because first of all, kids don't really matter until they are 14 years old or have been molested. They're only worth something after age 14, and I guess the ones who get molested have some sort of chronic onset maturation. It's not actually a bad way to approach it, the other kids need to experience adolescence in order to be cynical, but the molestation victims get a free pass!! No fair!!!

Regardless, I think I was especially pissed because I didn't know I could even be pregnant to begin with, perhaps it was a misdiagnoses? Nah, the thing I pulled out looked exactly like a fetus and nothing like a urethra.

It was at this point I realized I suffer from terminal depression, and yes it's contagious. People who come near me often complain of lower abdominal cramps and herpes. The only way I can ease the pain is by taking naps; drug-induced naps with just a hint of Cortisol. It's an extremely effective way of sleeping and I'm surprised that other people haven't given it a shot. It's just like karaoke; very addictive, better when intoxicated, and slightly sensual. I also realized that I have some freaky ass dreams during drug induced rests.

I dreamt that I was a fish once.

It was sick dude. I was swimming, and when I took breaths the water saturated my lungs, yet instead of doing that thing that most humans do when they breathe water (Namely, DIE, or something else to that effect), it seemed to filter through my body filling me with life. Being a fish is fucking liberating.

I was swimming my little fishy body around when I saw a squiggly little figure on the horizon. Curious, I squirmed over to it with my little fishy fins and said hello, "Hello". The figure seemed familiar but I couldn't put a name to it; there was no response to my greeting. The silence was unbearable and I almost felt obligated to leave. But I was captivated, it moved effortlessly, hypnotizing me, drawing me into a trance. As I approached I realized that it was a creature whose identity was a mystery to me, in all my fishy years had I ever seen anything as magnificent, although foreign, as that gilded acrobat of the sea. I did the most logical thing that a fish could think to do, and I just ate that fucker. My logic being that if it looks tasty, it probably was.

Unfortunately, I was quite wrong, it tasted like dirt, and had a large metal hook in it's stomach. I felt my torso being ripped out of my chest, and my semi-lifeless carcass being dragged to the surface. "NOOO TEH SURFACE!!!!"

Sorry, I had to do that.

So here I am, a poor little fish, getting dragged towards the surface, "NOOO TEH SURFACE!!!!" I'm screaming, "AHHHH, I'M A LITTLE FISH, AHHHH, I'M A FISHY!!" I look to the left, I see no escape, I look to the right, I see no escape, and then suddenly, "WOOSH" I'm bagged.

That's when I woke up completely naked, sweating profusely, wrapped tightly in a cumbersome blanket, and sucking on a coat hanger.






Drugs are some scary shits.
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(no subject) [Sep. 15th, 2007|07:27 pm]
Working on a video script, no posts for a while
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Superiority Complex [Sep. 12th, 2007|03:41 pm]
MAKE SURE TO WATCH ALL THE SHORT VIDEO CLIPS IN ORDER TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST.





My friend introduced me to this link a few days ago. Of course, I laughed heartily, since all rational beings know that leprechauns are only visible during the ides of March, but also because, LOL these whick whack homies are trippin!!!
Even the black anchorwoman is just pretending to laugh, you know after her shift ends she's going to put on her helmet and go hunting for some of that Irish treasure. At the end where she says, "People will do anything for a pot of gold, anything." The bitch means it.




Black people are still half monkey, during that crucial phase in the evolutionary ladder, it looks like they missed a few rungs. Let's examine the qualities that make this observation true.

They have a peculiar dark colored skin, much like monkeys.
Their heads sport large amounts of nappy hair, much like monkeys.
They have oversized body parts which act to accentuate their nature (penis, butts, boobs, lips, you get the idea), much like monkeys.
Low intelligence, much like monkeys.
They are fascinated by shiny objects, much like monkeys.
Most have an utter lack of self control, much like monkeys.
Blacks also utilize a primitive form of language, (for instance, BLING BLANG, HEY BEY BEY, SHAWTAY, GAT, 5-0 and etc) much like monkeys.
They run like cheetahs, much like cheetahs.
Another similarity between the two species is an uncontrollable impulse to get it CRUNK, YEAH!








Notice the monkey sounds they start making at the end? It's their primal nature showing.








Now that we've gone over all the characteristics that both monkeys and black people share, let's go over the game plan and try a little exercise. Coming up is a picture of an average black person, cross analyze the picture and apply your new found knowledge. Challenge yourself, see if you can identify all the characteristics we went over, be sure to note his nappy head, it's a little tricky in this picture!


DOWN



DOWN



DOWN



DOWN



DOWN



DOWN



READY



SET



GO



!!!!









Now, while I'm sure that there are some cool black people out there (not really). I can't testify to this point because I haven't met any. Given my lack of exposure, I wouldn't want to generalize a race based upon pretenses I have no idea are true; it's only ok to generalize when you have something to generalize off of. The point more exactly here is, while there MAY be interesting blacks, all the ones that I know are assholes. So in light of that, the only fair conclusion I can draw is that they all suck.

Looking to personal experience, I have personally met and conversated with two black people. My experience with them is marked with extreme displeasure. They tended to refer to me by my last name, go to the gym to work on their perfectly toned bodies, do drugs, steal ipods, and curse. Not the best of impressions.

But on the otherside of the spectrum, we have individuals reflecting their races appeal in popular culture. What with the hit show "I Love New York" and the Tyra Banks cutting sense of humor and iron clad wit on her new daytime talk series, you may ask me, "How can you even think that these people are still half monkey?!?!

In response to that, I have nothing to say. You are completely right, black celebrities are the best kind; the most entertaining kind.



Perhaps the reason that blacks have yet to fully evolve is the centuries of oppression they endured. But then again; nah.

Europe has Europeans, Asia has asians, Austrailia has assholes with shitty accents, and Africa has africans. However comparatively, Africa, with all it's black inhabitants, is the most chaotic of all seven continents, perpetrated by its systems of tyranny, lack of social welfare, rampant spread of diseases such as aids, and economical instability. We gave them their own continent, but now look what they made of it, maybe it's time to take it back and restore a little order.

Besides, blacks love all that famine and poverty and shit, haven't you seen the informercials? Would they be smiling their hungry asses off otherwise? I think not.











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Driver Kombat [Sep. 10th, 2007|03:59 pm]
When I see traffic lights, I don't see a signal to stop, I see a challenge. Yellow doesn't mean slow down to me, it means do or die.

I've been having thoughts lately, mostly about sex, but that's a tale for a different time. Looking to my thought rubric, I have appropriated approximately 2% of grey matter to deal with the spectacle of driving.

I'll be honest, I'm not that great at all. My fans call me the Enron of driving, but at least they do so in a loving manner. One of my biggest problems to date, is a hearty case of road rage. Actually, I have what is referred to as "Transcendant Road Rage". It's not that big of a deal, about 70% of all drivers have it; I'll explain anyway. Most drivers get pissed off when they are cut off by some redneck asshole in a truck, they mutter a few curse words (to themselves because rednecks have guns) perhaps do a threatening gesture if they are extremely frustrated, and then get over it. I also get pissed off, but extrapolate my anger using a rising bell curve. The main problem, however, is that I take instances off the road and take them onto the road. For instance, "That goth kid called me a bitch in school today! Let's kill his pathetic ass". I would burn out into the sunset with blood and mascara running down the hood of the car. Hence, transcendant road rage as my anger transcends from non-vehicular, to vehicular manslaughter.

If there wasn't so much jailtime attached to murder, I'd constantly use cars for acts of ultimate vengeance. Now, I would NEVER kill another person, EVER. Unless, of course, they were extremely irritating or had thoughts contrary to my own. I have several ideas of what would constitute execution in my version of a vigilante world. First, and most obvious on the list, are those cracked out morons who insist that Starcraft is just Warcraft in space. My fellow gamers can feel me on this.

What about those people, you may ask, who stand on the walking side of the escalator. Not to worry, I have a method for assassinating these assholes too. I'd hit them with a little taste of the pain train, if not met with instant death, they'd still have a long way to go on the cripple express.

Ever been stuck in line at a grocery store or a mall? Not a problem, a quick hit and run from the shopper chopper would quickly eliminate any pesky consumers who feel the need to second guess their purchases at the register. At least you don't need to worry about the lastest issue of Cosmopolitan in Hell.

You've been in this situation before, getting stuck with an emotionally overburdened teen with self esteem issues who has just decided to unload a year's worth of drama upon you. You just want to go finish watching this episode of Grey's Anatomy, but the ho keeps whining all like, "I'm so ugly, how could anyone ever want me." GIve me a call, she'll be a painfully forgotton splotch on my windshield within seconds; coming to the rescue with my hoard of upset bus sets.

You get the idea. I'd be bad ass, I'd be like Stuntman Mike from Deathproof. Right of way? Pft, I'm only familiar with the Smiting way, which is exactly what you'll have to deal with if you try to interrupt my left turn onto the turnpike.
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Scrutiny, Soul, and New Beginnings [Sep. 9th, 2007|08:41 pm]
I always start off a new school year with a positive attitutude. One where I am personally convinced that I will eliminate all my old bad habits and be able to become a constructive student. This mindset has reoccured since like what, 3rd grade? I've always had problems in school, not only with teachers, but also with other students. And looking back on it all, it's really what defines me; my inability to be that token "normal" child that parents dream of having. It's true, beyond any skeptical point, that I'm not easy to get along with, I take offense easily, I offend easily, and I'm never particularily looking to make friends. I think one of the main reasons that I do have this sort of bellicose aura (in a figurative sense, I have yet to kill another person) is that I moved a lot as a child. Yet, I'm not complaining, at least not in the typical sense. The constant migration from school to school is what has shaped me, and I'm not willing to part with that essential component of myself. I recognize that without the exposure to different people, to different mindsets, I would probably have a more contentful life, perhaps a more stable one. But then again, I would also lose sight of my priorities, and what is truely important to myself as a person. Exposure is all relatively important; my experience in Thailand handling tiger cubs tells me that the Discovery Channel documentaries on the ferocity of tigers are all bullshit. Back on tangent, I developed a game plan for moving and adjusting to a new school, it's bitter in nature, but you can't hold me culpable for creating it. I take a few weeks to just examine the workings of the school, talk little, engage even less. After finding a suitable niche, I swoop in with an arsenal of prepared lines and peppermint gestures. Trust me in that it works a lot better in my mind than in actual practice. However, the most important part of this plan, is to never be involved too deeply, to never root into the social ground. That way, you lose the least when you are once again carried on to another location. Metaphorically, it sounds elaborate and beautiful, being that seed or leaf that flutters willinglessly in the air, but then again, fuck metaphors. It scares me now, to think of the impact that every person near to me presents. How would I cope with a close friend dying (now that I have them), how would I cope with a cousin dying, or a grandparent, or even a parent. Looking furthur than the initial trauma, I have a feeling that perhaps my guard is too low, and that my world would not only be afflicted for a small time, but would also be warped and altered into a completely different state. I never think in terms of heart, I never weigh a situation in how it might disregard the emotions or feelings of another, rather I do a calculated analysis of the possible results. For example, if a peer handed me a knife and offered me a thousand dollars to scratch up another person's car, I probably wouldn't. Not for the fact that I might hurt the feelings of the owner, who may wonder what they did in order to deserve such harsh treatment, but because of the insignificant benefit offered to me. The potential of being caught is overburdening. The importance of this, is that I am at a complete loss for handling matters of soul because I've eliminated (or at least minimized) that component of me. My families impending death, I'm afraid, is poorly expressed in a cost-benefit analysis. In a more isolated perspective, it's the transience of life that keeps me from being truely motivated. Everything I could work to accomplish can all mean nothing by the dawn of a new day. It's the reason why I come to class well stocked the 1st month of school, and by the 2nd month, I'm scrounging around my backpack looking for a marker I can use to finish my test. It's the reason why I wake up an hour before I get to school now, but in a week I'm probably going to hit the snooze button at 7 o'clock. I've moved, undeniably, more than most teenagers ever will, but oddly, I think I've found a way to settle. A way to be content. And that's what I find enlightening past the brevity of existence. I have (looking to the average American lifespan) around 60 years left to live. This can be interpreted as 6/10 of a century, or the time it took to build the Spyhnx, or the time it takes to build up a hearty retirement fund. I think this should be interesting, discovering how I will choose to interpret this time. What I will make it mean to myself and everyone remotely effected by myself. Every second, 1.8 persons die, but to counter that, 4.2 persons are born, so maybe, just perhaps, there is hope for us yet.
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Golf [May. 14th, 2007|12:47 am]
[Tags|]

So I went golfing today and came to several realizations.

Note that this was my first time golfing since 5th grade.

1. Never pee against the wind, or to close to the golfing range.

2. Even if you see a golfball laying on the ground that doesn't happen to belong to you, the finders-keepers rule does not apply.

3. When the golf cart starts beeping, try getting your hand off the reverse.

4. The numbers on the golf clubs is just a bunch of pretentious bullshit, just use the driver, it will suit all your needs.

5. The reason why they have putting ranges, and driving ranges, but no in-between those two ranges, is because aside from putting and driving, golf sucks.

6. Hitting a golfball with the wrong side of the club is potentially painful.

7. Don't play bumper cars with the golfcarts.

8. Don't try to intimidate other players with aggressive driving.

9. Plaid doesn't look good on anyone.

10. Don't make sandsculptures in the sandtraps.

11. Golfcarts, can and WILL tip over.

12. The flagpoles aren't javelins.

13. There is no point to golfwear, you might as well be naked.

14. Gopher holes look peculiarly like golf holes.

15. You could probably dress like a pimp on a golf course and blend right in.
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:) [Feb. 8th, 2007|03:49 pm]
Well, we are talking about "What it means to be gifted" in Gifted Seminar. We've had a lot of circulating theories: gifted students learn faster, gifted students procrastinate, gifted students collect paper hole punches. I'm here to set the record straight. To be gifted is to have an excuse for everything, and at little pain. I remember back in the day I would always get in so much trouble for not doing what the teacher would tell me to do. But guess what bitch, I'm gifted, back the fuck off. Being gifted is great.

"Charles, why don't you draw a picture with the color red, it IS Valentine's Day?"

My response back in the day would have been, "No."

My response now would be, "No, I'm have special learning needs which prohibit me from using the color red, please respect my individual preferences."

The difference between then and now is that back then, I would have to stay in during recess and draw the fucking rose again. But NOW, the teacher gives me room. All in a days work.

I really come up with brilliant ways to apply concepts. Ah, my favorite would have to be the fourth grade oppresser of a teacher that I had.

She and the guidance counselor suggested therapy, it went like this, "You need a therapist."

If I had been aware of my giftedness I would have gone, "I am my own therapist."



So I've been browsing Myspace lately, and I've realized, that I hate a lot of people. I know that sounds bad, but hey, I probably hate you too so I don't care what you think!

I really hate the girls that insist on their sexyness.

The captions that read:

Damn, we fine.

That's right bitch.

Jealous, bitch.

Hey, quick suggestion for you guys that have those captions. Shutup, bitch.

I also hate the horndogs on myspace. The guys who leave picture comments like this:

Dayumm, drop it like it's hot.

Yor georgous.

Yea mami.

I swear to God, why is everyone so Puerto Rican.

OH, the pinnacle of my hate are the people who substitute numbers for letters:

0MB, D@5 H07.

7H3 B35T.

U <3 D15 SH1T.

....

Self explanatory.
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Yo [Feb. 7th, 2007|12:17 am]
So for English class, we have to write a narrative on our life...

:)

:)

:)

Fuck narratives.

I'm probably going to write mine on childhood obesity, there are some Frumpy McFrump Frumps out there.

I was walking home from the bus stop, when Joel and his dad drive up to my house. He yells for me out the window, and it was then that I realized that he expected me to go over to some weird kid's house. Then he calls Matt. And lo and behold Matt comes over too.

Long story short, I persevered and stayed home, I hate it when my friends bother me at home. They should bother me at other places; like, not home. There are various places that constitute not home, so I don't think this is an unreasonable request. When I am at home, I want to chill out, watch a movie, eat some chicken, play some Starcraft. Not deal with girl drama, and dude drama, and fun drama. That's for not home. It's a seperation between the workplace, and the homeplace. Why can't people respect my ideals?! Examples of not home are, er.
Eh.
Anywhere from 50 yards of the vicinity of my house, that's where you can reach me if you really want too.

So back to English, we were coming up with a list of Electrifying! words and Lifeless words. I came up with a few good Electrifying! words but none of them got presented.

The list was like: Ravishing, Vindicated, Ad Infinitum.

I had a lot of good suggestions, but kept most in my head for the sake of maintaining political correctness.

Here are some of my personal favorite Electrifying! words.

Portugese - It's a multipurpose word that makes you want to chew. In fact, say Portugese, you'll end up saying Poor-Chew-Geese. Look at the middle word, it's chew. Also, it can be used in almost all situations especially to assign blame.

"Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" "The Portugese"
"Why is the American economy experiencing a downtrend?" "The Portugese"
"I really really like peanut butter." "The Portugese"

There you have it, the perfect electrifying word.

Pornography - This is definately my favorite, I like seeing it all the time. The word that is. The more commonly that I observe the word "Pornography" the happier I become. It shows me that people have truly discovered an appreciation for the sciences and for the arts. Pornography is an electrifying word because it represents the epitome of our society. Without it, our social infrastructure would collapse. It is more important than the other esteemed graphys. Biography, Geography, Calligraphy, Cartography, Photography, and Bibliography pale in comparison. It is because "Pornography" is so diverse, there is white pornography, black pornography, and midget pornography. Sure there are black and white photographies, but are there midget photographies? Are there midget bibliographies? I think not.

Assassination - The word Ass appears twice in it. So does the word nation. I find it amusing. ASS - ASS - I - NATION. Subliminal comment upon the Bush Administration? Quite possibly.

Fergalicious - Yo, that cunt is hot. T - A - S - T - E -Y. And yes, that is how she spells it. Break it down girl, hey hey hey.

I had some more, but I don't care enough to post them. Indifference is cool, remember that folks.






I really hate bitchy girls, if you are a bitchy girl, please, Cry/Slit/Fail/Hospital/Second Attempt/Coma/Awaken/Resolve To Change/Get Hit By Car/Hell

K Thanks.
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(no subject) [Oct. 17th, 2006|09:56 pm]
I feel bad for my live journal.

I remember, long long ago.

I said to myself, "Charles, write shit down, like, alot."

I did this pretty much religiously for about what? Three days?

Horrible fucking concept in my opinion. Whats the point of me writing anything here, why waste the thought. Who is gonna read it? My two live journal friends? That's right, I have TWO.


I think I'm developing carpal tunnel syndrome.

Is that weird? Not the fact that I may possibly be developing it, but the fact that I am even considering this.

I'm pretty PO'ED at my mouse, I swear its like an ergonomic time bomb.
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Cumbersome Eyelids [Sep. 16th, 2006|11:17 pm]
I woke up right on time today, maybe around three or four, the usual weekend. It wasn't a bad start, althought I couldn't seem to open my left eye. I initially thought it was just the sleepy jinky's, but then I realized that I seriously couldn't open my eyelid. Thoughts rushed throught my head, had I experienced some mild retardation overnight from that expired tylenol I ate, had aliens abducted me and seared my eyelid shut. I run to the bathroom and find a bandaid stuck to my head. Go figure.

Someone clogged our toilet today, and I wonder who. Regardless, it was up to me to unclog it, being the man of the house. You know how cute bunnies and squirrels are, and how you want to just fondle them and rub their heads. Well an overflowing toilet looks nothing like that. After some very hard very exciting hand to plunger movement for about an hour, it started to drain. I wiped the sweat off my head in satisfaction and quickly learned my hands were not so clean. Epic, yes?

I was so affected by the toilet incident that I decided to learn everything possible about them, with the help of Google. Here's what I learned along with some pictures.





Wake That Baby Up!



What's that noise?



He's a hard worker, that's what.



Boston Hates You

Other cities put their restrooms right on the street and in the subway, where visitors and residents can actually see and use them. Not Boston. We hide our bathrooms away, taunting you, daring you to see if you've got real bladder control. Town Meeting in Concord, one of the most popular tourist sites in America, once rejected plans for a new visitor center, because it would have had restrooms - residents were afraid people from the neighboring town of Maynard would drive into Concord just to use the facilities.







Tax For Toilets

There was a man who computed his taxes for 1997 and found that he owed $3407. He packaged up his payment and included this letter:

Dear IRS:

Enclosed is my 1997 Tax Return & payment. Please take note of the attached article from the USA Today newspaper. In the article, you will see that the Pentagon is paying $171.50 for hammers and NASA has paid $600.00 for a toilet seat.

Please find enclosed four toilet seats (value $2400) and six hammers(value $1029). This brings my total payment to $3429.00. Please note the overpayment of $22.00 and apply it to the 'Presidential Election Fund', as noted on my return. Might I suggest you send the above mentioned fund a '1.5 inch screw'. (See attached article - HUD paid $22.00 for a 1.5 inch Phillips Head Screw.)

It has been a pleasure to pay my tax bill this year, and I look forward to paying it again next year. I just saw an article about the Pentagon and 'screwdrivers'.

Sincerely,

(Not Telling)





Sewer Gators


The Boston Daily Globe
August 14, 1873
Page 5

A genuine live alligator meanders around in Atlanta, Ga., sewers, picking up chickens, young Africans and other such unconsidered trifles.



The Evening Observer [Dunkirk, New York}
March 2, 1915
Page 8

Rather Remarkable Suggestion for Cleaning Sewers at Erie.
The Eric Dispatch is responsible for this:

Alligators may be used to clean out city sewers as the result of an offer received by Thedore [sic] Eichhorn, superintendent of streets, yesterday. A New York company wrote to him asking that the innovation be tried out here as it is to be in Dayton, [Ohio]. The company has agents in Florida who select sewer-sized alligators and ship them to cities which order.

The idea is to start an alligator through the sewer head first. Being in a position a little too complicated to turn around the animal will crawl until he reaches a manhole. A rope is to be tied around the alligator's body, and as he moves he will drag a scraper.

Superintendent Eichhorn wasn't certain yesterday which of the street department force he would employ to handling the alligator if he gets one. But he did agree that the idea is a practical one, because an alligator has the strength and determination to push his way through any clog that ever blocked a sewer.

"I'm going to take the matter up and, if they don't charge too much for him, we may get an alligator," he said. When the animal becomes too old to work his way through life and sewers alike, it was suggested that he be placed as the first installment in a municipal zoological garden.


After I unclogged the toilet, the ceiling started to leak.
I know who is fixing that too; NOT ME.



I played Starcraft for a hour or two. Then I called my friend Matt, guess who he is going to homecoming with, Ali Harned. I must have no girl appeal or something. Anyhow, I asked my friends on Starcraft what to do, here's what some of them said.

Check[It]: Hey, I have a website just for you, it helped me get a date. www.theinternetwillnotgetyouadate.com

Got-Alp: Punch her in the face.

TaHj: Kidnap her and hold her hostage for a day or two, then let her go and ask her to homecoming. Everyone will talk about that for a while..

Xaeil: Wear some assless chaps to school, hand her a note that says, "Will you go to homecoming with me?" and when she looks at you in disgust hand her another note that says, "I will never wear this again if you say yes."

2Phat2Stand:

I'll throw out some ideas:

1. "I'd like to make you come at homecoming."

2. Don't say anything. Just find out her class schedule and follow her everywhere. Take a couple of days off from classes and just stand outside her classrooms staring at her.

3. Bake her a cake that says "Come with me to homecoming" on it. Then you can be her quirky friend who's probably gay but hasn't admitted to it.

4. Play a fun game with her. You ask questions and she has to answer yes or no as fast as she can. Go through a bunch of bs questions, then finally ask if she'll go to homecoming with you.

5. Don't be a pussy and just ask her.

Finnegan: You are definately asking the wrong question in the wrong place.

Anubis-King: Threaten to kill her, and when she gets all hot and flustered, be like, I'm j/k, lets go to homecoming.

Rby: Change your schedule so all your classes are with her; then ask her in homeroom. You can spend the rest of the day, being near her while respecting an awkward silence. That's what I did.

Miracle: I'd just go with the straightforward approach.....save the gusto for the marriage proposal you're going to make to your future wife....

A.) You go to homecoming, and she ditches you to bang some football player
B.) You go to homecoming, you make out, date for a few weeks, then break up
C.) You go to homecoming, get drunk, bang her in your back seat....everything is cool until a month later when she's late and you're going to be a daddy. 9 months later you have to drop out of school to work two jobs just so you can support your new baby momma.


But anyways, good luck with that whole asking her to homecoming thing.

Zace: Devirginize her.

Kirby: Take a HUGE shit and collect it in a bucket. Get over to her house right away while it's still fresh and spread it out on the windshield of her car. Write the message, "Homecoming would be the shit." Ring her doorbell and run.

Booger: Tell her if she was a booger, you would pick her first.


Great advice, mother fuckers.
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Yo Quiero, Taco Bell? [Sep. 14th, 2006|07:17 pm]
[mood | cynical]

I hate the smileys they give us on Live Journal. There are about 5 different faces for about 600 different emotions. Normally, I wouldn't say anything, but they really bring it upon themselves. For example, they have the SAME exact face for: Aggravated, Angry, Annoyed, Bitchy, Cranky, Crappy, Cynical, and down the alphabet in that manner. If I had known that I only had five gazes in my arsenal of expressions, I'd have gotten botox to tuck my eyebrows up a LONG LONG time ago. I don't have much of a chin either, but don't listen to that, you might notice it and start to hate me.

Today, I had a lot of time with nothing to do. So I decided to mess with people and their heads; a favorite past time of mine. In my buddy profile (http://www.buddyprofile.com/viewprofile.php?username=dynamicchuck12&u=%n) I decided to take advantage of the autotype/autoinsert and wrote this message.

%n: I want to have sex with Charles

The beauty of autotype/autoinsert is the fact that, whoever looks into my profile, in place of %n they will see their own screenname. I got at least 30 messages, some with amused people, some with confused people, some with angry people, but also suprisingly, people who couldn't remember when they said that.

To say the least, it really doesn't get old, I actually JUST had this conversation.


TyPiNo5 (7:52:23 PM): yo whats up with your profile
DynamicChuck12 (7:52:34 PM): whats wrong?
TyPiNo5 (7:52:40 PM): u have me in it
DynamicChuck12 (7:52:42 PM): yea so?
TyPiNo5 (7:52:43 PM): take that out
DynamicChuck12 (7:52:50 PM): wait, you are in my profile?
TyPiNo5 (7:53:07 PM): yea at the bottom
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:25 PM): what does it say?
TyPiNo5 (7:53:34 PM): i want to have sex with charles
TyPiNo5 (7:53:36 PM): delete it
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:39 PM): WTF
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:44 PM): dude
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:47 PM): i'm putting that in my profile
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:52 PM): TyPiNo5 (7:53:34 PM): i want to have sex with charles
TyPiNo5 (7:53:56 PM): ur gay dude
DynamicChuck12 (7:53:57 PM): i cant believe
DynamicChuck12 (7:54:00 PM): you just said that to me, and now you are calling me gay?

Ok so maybe its a bit crueler then I intended.

Today, in spanish class, I made up a song. This wasn't part of an assignment or anything, I just kinda did. It follows the music from the song "I Will Survive"



At first I was scared, I was lost as hell.
Until the natives took me back to taco bell.
And I spent all my time, eating every taco there,
And I woke up in the morning with crap in my underwear!

So now I'm back, from Mexico City.
Theres a rat in my car and a ho without no titty.
I should have cooked that stupid pork.
I should have ate it with a fork.
Cause now I have diarrhea and it really bothers me.

Blow out now blow,
Blow out that hole.
Don't clog the drain cause I'm in pain and can't take it anymore.
I thought you said this food was safe.
But now my ass is kinda chaffed.
Oh I feel raped.
But I'll survive.
I just won't die.
As long as I am conscious I'll fight to stay alive.

I know its bleeding out,
It's like the god damn gout.
So please, gather my family, call all my best friends.
Cause I know I gotta make, and sue this company.
But oh shit, I just lost my intestines.
AY AY.
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So, Peace Out To Mr. Caddy. [Sep. 13th, 2006|09:21 pm]
[mood | touched]
[music |A Tribe Called Quest]

As I was walking home from the bus stop today (about a half-minute walk), I saw the Kutilis's dog Radar. Because I had been gone during the summer, this was the first time I got to pet Radar in about 3 months.

BIG fucking nuts man, Gigantic. It's not like I was looking intentionally, to see if he had gotten any bigger in size, but just under the circumstances, it was really apparent. His nuts looked like fucking wrecking balls, able to destroy buildings. I feel sorry for his bitch. As a gift to humanity, I plan on leaving an anonymous note in the Kutilis's mailbox stating the following:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kutilis,
Neuter that fucking dog, cut his fucking nuts off.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen

In other news, my uncle left for Vietnam to do some sort of business. I didn't witness this, but I heard through the grapevine that while packing items to bring on the plane; when presented with the choice between his golf clubs and blankets to keep him warm in the cold winter. He chose the golf clubs. That's the 40 over par spirit, you go get them Mr. Caddy.

I lost the vocabulary book that my cousin gave me, that she completed in 9th grade 3 years ago. It was her final act of kindness, before refusing to commit any further acts of kindness. I'm more or the less depressed because these vocab words are damn hard. Check it out: Muddle.

MUDDLE

WTF IS A MUDDLE

I think it's like a puddle, with mud. Man which fucking apathetic bastard made this word up, they can't just say muddy puddle?


End Rant
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Shanks for the low cut. [Sep. 12th, 2006|08:21 pm]
So this is it, scratch out myspace, xanga, last fm. This shouldn't be the last frontier should it? I mean, who do I know on live journal? This entire site has been constructed under the premise that if I insert a link for it into my AIM profile, people will come and read the title, then leave. There goes artistic beauty.

So, really now, I can't win. Today, David, my favorite black friend, asked me, "Ayyoo, Charles, you going prep or shit son? Wearing fucking Abercrombie and Shit." He made me insecure, I think he was rocking Sean John. This really made me reflect, have I lost my inner thug? I mean Flavor Flavor on Vh1 isn't wearing what I am wearing and seems to get tons of chicks. Does the secret to "pimping" rely on a golden viking hat and large clocks? I don't have the viking hat, but I do have a pocket watch I can wear around my neck. Maybe a cap would do?

Tomorrow is picture day, I should regain some of my street cred by posing like a G. I see no hope otherwise.

The other day, we had a party in honor of my uncle's 58th birthday. Although I wasn't able to see it myself, I heard we had "Happy Birthday Old Geezer" written on the cake. A garunteed crowd pleaser. My dad got really drunk, I snuck a beer, actually everyone got really drunk. I'm sure at least 3-4 people got arrested driving home, if not killed. What I hated the most were the little kids. Wtf dude, I'm still unsure if those were kids or the devil's rejects. I walk into the master bedroom to grab the phone, and MOB. I didn't even know that these many children existed. They were everywhere, on the ironing board, the fax machine, on each other. Nonetheless, they screamed "ATTACK" and charged me. At first I thought they were pretty cute, then I realized that they were biting me. Little fuckers.

I still need a date to homecoming, so I have decided the best way to get a girl, is to ruin their ego's, so I can build them back up later on in the futurel; an example follows.

DynamicChuck12 (8:15:28 PM): hey
k a alii028 (8:15:31 PM): hey
DynamicChuck12 (8:15:32 PM): i really noticed today but
DynamicChuck12 (8:15:43 PM): you gained A LOT of weight over the summer
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