Final Project: Holden Style Writing

Final Project: Holden Style Writing

This Guy Really Got Me

An epic piece of literature by Max Duckworth

I had been sitting in the back of that goddam cab for hours. This driver was really a moron, no matter how many times I told him to take one of the back more empty roads he stayed on the busy ones with damn near a million others cars waiting for the light to turn green. He must of figured that the longer he takes the more I’m gonna pay him, but I was spent up – I mean it. There’s no way I’m gonna pay this guy for making me sit in the back of his crumby cab. These kind of people kill me, they really do.

It was so damn cold out tonight. I was freezing my ass of in this cab and the dumb bastard didn’t even turn on the heating for Christ’s sake. I didn’t really care much; it’s just that people’s laziness can really get in my nerves sometimes. I gave myself a hard time thinking about all the other poor people that had to freeze their ass off in this cold taxi, and then the people in the summer. That’s the deal with Ney York, too damn hot in the summer, too damn cold in the winter. Did this guy even put the air conditioning on for the poor people in the summer? The coldness was getting to me, it really was.

The cabbie hadn’t even said anything to me yet. I am really getting sick of morons like this. So what I did was, I tried to strike up a conversation. “Do you know what happens to the ducks when the lake in central park freezes over?”

“What ya tryin’ to do mac?”

Mac? If there was a word I hated more, I got enough of that crap from the last cabbie, that stuff kills me. “I’m not tryin’ anything. Just curious.”

“I dunno where the hell they go, and who the hell gives a damn about a few stupid ducks”

This bastard was really starting to get on my nerves. “I give a damn about a few stupid ducks! Ya know what, let me out here. I have better things to do than sit in this damn traffic!” I got out and slammed the door as hard as I could but I was too damn cold to do it hard enough to intimidate the guy. Walking wasn’t so bad, I do it quite a lot actually.

“You gonna pay the fare or what?” The cabbie asked. I ignored him; this moron wasn’t worth my time- the stupid bastard. I started walking a few blocks. My legs started to ache and stuff so I called another cab. This guy could tell I was as drunk as hell and tried to take advantage of me and charge more than an average fare. I didn’t really care, I had money.

I fell on to the back seat the second the car door opened. “Where to?” The cabbie asked.

“You tell me.” I had nowhere to go. I told the last cabbie to drive around until I saw a hotel that looked nice. “Ya know any good hotels I can stay in?”

“One, on the other side of town though.”

The lying bastard, this guy was a thief, he really was. I could name a million hotels between wherever the hell we were now to the hotel he just mentioned. I didn’t care; I was as drunk as hell. “That’ll do.” I told him.

The guy was quite a talker, I was up for it. I felt like chewing the fat a little bit myself­. This guy was a nice fella, he really was. “You want to get a drink?” I asked.

“Sorry, can’t do that. Savin’ money for the wife. She wants a big diamond ring for Christmas. How the hell is a cabbie supposed to provide stuff like that?”

I was sorry I asked; he went on a rant about how his wife is always wanting whatever she saw in a shop window. Why the hell should I care? I really hate it when people start ranting about whatever they can get their hands on. I roomed with a guy a couple of years back for about two months. Anything would set this bastard off. Door’s unlocked, get mad. My bed isn’t made, get mad. Leave the lights in the can on, get mad. I get mad at him for getting mad, get mad. He killed me, he really did. So what I did was, I put so many things out of place that this bastard damn near had a heart attack. But of course, after punching me in the face and damn near knocking all of my teeth out, he got me kicked out of the dorm. That bastard killed me, he really did.

“You got a wife?” The cabbie asked.

“Uhh, no,” I replied.

“Lucky bastard, what I would give to be single. Imma be bankrupt if my wife keeps wanting to buy stuff like a goddam ring.”

Sorry I asked. “Oh, really?” I asked, trying to be polite.

“Anyways, so how long ya in New York for?” He asked.

“I’m not really sure yet.” I responded.

“It’s a beautiful place isn’t it.” He asked.

Yes it is, I can’t get enough of these beautiful car fumes. “You got that right.”

“One thing I don’t get, where do the ducks go in the winter?”

This guy got me, he really did.

Just When I Thought My Day Was Getting Good

Just When I Thought My Day Was Getting Good

An epic piece of literature by Max Duckworth

I stepped out of my apartment holding my dog’s leash. We strolled through Central Park enjoying the serenity. It was practically silent considering it was five in the morning and this was one of the more quiet parts of the park. I couldn’t believe the profuse amounts of snow along the fields. It would have been the perfect moment had my dog not just peed all over my new shoes. It wasn’t like this was some regular old shoe; this shoe symbolized everything that had to do with 1949 and all of the great technology that we Americans enjoy every day. That’s what the radio says at least, but the world is full of symbolism that people say is there but it really isn’t. This shoe symbolized a new modern age…and now it was soaked with dog piss. Speaking of symbolism that people say is there but it really isn’t, guess who I just ran into: Holden Caulfield, the asshole maniac from my old school.

“God damn it.” I whispered to myself as I saw him notice me. Just when I thought my day was getting good, god ruins it with this. I wasn’t surprised to see his usual drunk waddle. As he waddled towards me I could see a bottle of beer in his hand. It reminded me of our school days, always drinking. Except I was conscientious about my alcohol intake, but this guy would drink until somebody was forced to confiscate the booze. People never change, I thought to myself.

“Hey there, Max.” He tried to say but he was too drunk to make the words clear. He dropped his bottle on the floor when he got close to me, he seemed to not notice. My dog started to lick it up; I really shouldn’t give him anything he can pee out all over my shoes. But I had bigger things to worry about. I had almost forgotten how audacious he was. “I’m sorry, I really am,” he started. “The night is still young.”

“No,” I told him, “Before I left school, I remember you saying that you’d sort your life out and look at you!!” He was wearing yet another school uniform clad with vomit and vodka. “Please just go home, Holden, and put on some nice clothes for Christ’s sake!”

“Shut up you dumb bastard!” He shouted. I forgot how irascible he was. “Ya know, I thought I saw you the other day. He looked like you –the guy I mean-, so I conjectured it was you, I introduced myself. It wasn’t you.” –AUTHORS NOTE: Yes that was a cheap shot at what Vigan said the other day--.

That made me depressed; anybody stupid enough to say something like that just killed me and made me despondent. Wow, Holden is rubbing off on me. I felt impelled to help him but he abhorred any advice anybody gave him about his life.

I told him that he needed help (despite the fact I already knew the answer). He didn’t care though. Like I said, it was his disposition to ignore advice. He started shouting at me using his usual unnecessary cuss words and dumbass repletion of everything and (what I hated most) his stupid symbolic hidden messages. Then he stopped, he looked like something was amiss. I should have gotten out of there when I had the chance, but I stayed. Then he spontaneously threw up all over my dog!

“WHAT THE F-!!” I started but he cut me off.

“Don’t say that word you dumb moron!! Your goddam bad words will scare all of the goddam kids you goddam stupid bastard!” Oh, the irony. It recurred to me how he always had a love of innocence of kids, he was always blabbing on about (not that anybody gave a crap about it)

He endeavored to put his finger on my lips to silence me, but he just collapsed. I was electrified; it just came out of nowhere. He looked like he had passes out and blood was coming out of the back of his head. THANK YOU GOD!!! I thought to myself. I finally had a chance to get away from this maniac AND he was in pain. This day might not be so bad after all. I started to walk away.

But no, he grabbed onto my ankle. This bastard wasn’t unconscious or in excruciating pain. God damn it!! What did I do to deserve this?? Who knows what this could escalate into: a trip to the hospital? Bringing him to my place? I wouldn’t want to see my wife’s “WHY THE HELL IS THERE A SOCIOPATH IN THE HOUSE!!” face.

“Wanna get a drink?” He offered again. This guy was just weird. As if the second spontaneous offer wasn’t weird enough, it was followed by one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. “You know, if they fall off, they fall off but it’s bad if you say anything to them.”

“What the hell does that even mean!?!?” Now he was just talking complete crap. I assumed it was another typical ‘Holden message’ that was something deep hidden behind his usual ranting on everything he can get his hands on. “Don’t demean yourself by saying stupid hidden messages that nobody gives a crap about!”

I then walked away, I had heard enough. Stupid Holden and his dumbass hating on everything and randomness. I didn’t even care if he bled to death on the floor. If anything it made me happy. The concept of Holden in pain is better than any Christmas present anyone’s going to get me.

Catcher in the Rye Poem

Catcher in the Rye Poem

The following poem sucks and is pessimistic.

He stands on the hill,

Watching,

Wanting,

Waiting,

For a sign,

A sign of goodbye.

He is leaving

From his school,

That he hates.

His crumby, Phony

School.

He hates

The people,

He hates

The lies.

He hates

Being surrounded by phonies.

He lives,

In a world of people,

People with bad hygiene,

People that lie,

People that are fake.

He is not a fake,

He is honest,

Candid,

Real.

Phonies,

Phonies,

Phonies,

He hates them so,

But what can he do?

Nothing,

For he is as hopeless as that annoying guy in ‘Ratatouille’,

But he is leaving,

His crumby, phony

School

…for ever.

He is an under achiever,

Who has really weird friends,

And a fondness for bad words,

He likes his brother’s baseball mitt,

For so long he has kept it.

He lives in a dorm with a guy

That he considers sexy,

Even though his razor blade is super-nasty,

But Stradlater- the roommate,

Is nowhere near as weird as the neighbor-

Ackley…

His name is Holden,

He used to fence,

Until he left the stuff on the subway,

He has flunked out of,

Four out of five classes,

He thinks that people are asses,

His history teacher was some old,

Creepy dude,

That smelt like Vick’s nose drops,

And now Stradlater has gone on a date with his old best friend,

Who keeps her kings at the back,

When she plays checkers,

And Holden like kings in the back,

Yes, he is a boring as an old Big Mac.

He calls the bathroom the can,

His roommate is a man,

This story is going nowhere,

All Holden seems to do is not care.

Why should I dare,

To go on to the end,

I probably won’t find a climax there,

This book is almost as slow as Avatar,

Watching that felt like being burned by tar.

But this book isn’t as excruciatingly boring,

So I guess I will read on,

And hopefully the boredom will be gone,

And I will be done.

Poetry Friday: My mother

My Mother

By Max Duckworth

is a saint,

My mother is a leaf,

My mother is play-doh,

The queen in a king’s castle.

My mother is a giver,

My mother is a teacher,

My mother the one,

Who watches the last slice from afar.

My mother is an ant,

My mother is a bee,

My mother is the guy that gives you

combo number three…at McDonalds

My mother is the bird,

My mother is a priest,

My mother is the one,

Who is to-the-beast.

My mother eats Mint Oreos,

Pizza, chocolate,

Pain, Sadness,

Boredom.

She is water in a desert,

Rain in summer,

Fun at a funeral,

Healthy stuff at KFC.

She watches Dexter,

Entourage,

True Blood,

Us.

Because of her: I am funny (or so I’ve been told),

Because of her I am able to help,

Able to care,

Able to eat a hell of a lot of food.

Able to dare.

Because of my mother,

I am me.

Which is a good thing by the way!

For some reason stanzas arent showing up in the poem :( I dont know how to re-stanza it because when I typed it in word it had stanzas in it. If anybody knows how to re-stanza can you post it in a comment or something like that? Pleeeeeease

Book Review

Book Review for Halo: The Fall of Reach

One of the books I read this year was Halo: The Fall of Reach by Eric Nylund. It is a science fiction/action novel that I would recommend for any fan of the genre or the major hit video game series that it is based on.

The book starts off explaining the war raging on between humans and a powerful alien enemy known as The Covenant. Living on planet Reach five hundred years in the future is a six year old boy named John who has been chosen for the a military project known as Project: SPARTAN. John – along with other six year olds – is then trained to be a ‘Super-Soldier’ to fight The Covenant.

On John’s journey towards maturity and becoming a more experienced warrior he meets other people such as: Kelly, Sammy, Keyes, Dr. Haseley and A.I. human-simulation Cortana. After The Covenant becomes stronger and start invading the planet Reach(which is John's home planet) John (and the other SPARTANS) are thrown into full-scale combat and John does things that he has never done before, things like: jumping through slip-stream space, destroying a Covenant ship and let go to the people that mean the most to him.

The number one protagonist in this book is John (who later in the book is addressed as Masterchief). Ever since childhood he has been determined to win no matter what the costs are. He is a very likeable character and despite the ‘win or die trying’ attitude he feels more like a human than an object.

Another important character in the story is Kelly; she has been a major part in John’s life since they were six years old. She is a fellow SPARTAN and takes commands from John. It is very hard not to like this character because she is obedient, loyal and cares about the other team-members.

The antagonist in this novel is a group rather than an individual: The Covenant. The Covenant is a brutal alien force hell-bent on destroying humanity. Their technology is far more superior to that of the humans (and this is 500 years in the future). It is only Captain Keyes who has destroyed one of their ships seeing as the Covenant lives by one rule: Destroy the humans no matter what.

In my opinion, this book is a great read for anybody that enjoys guns, explosions and blood. Even though John is a protagonist like no other, you feel like you can connect to him because at some point in our life we have all been thrown into situations that we didn’t like. The characters in the story are very believable and likeable and they are involved in a story line that is deep and action-packed at the same time. Unlike many other action novels, this one does not throw violence and fighting for no particular reason.

I must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed this book despite the fact that I don’t like the video-games that this story is based on. Like I said, this book is an incredible read for fans of the game or the genre. Eric Nylund has written two of the other Halo books in the series on addition to other novels such as: Mortal Coils, A Signal Shattered, A Game of Universe and many more. This book is the first in a series of six (if you exclude an anthology of short stories) and the prequel to the wildly successful X-Box game, and my opinion is worthy of the name: Halo.

On a scale of one-to-ten I would give this an eight because it dragged it’s feet at points and the story line was a little predictable. But by all means I would still recommend it if you were a fan of the games or not.

Confession Tuesday: I Hate Chatty Stuff

Confession Tuesday

I Hate Chat Stuff

All of you that are reading this have been on some kind of chat thing at some point in your life. Most of you chat with people everyday, whether it is on Facebook or BBM, you always chat. Even though day after day you say the same thing. Here is an example of a conversation:

Lifeless Guy Number One: Hey.
Lifeless Guy Number Two: Hey
Lifeless Guy Number One: What’s up?
Lifeless Guy Number Two: NM. U
Lifeless Guy Number One: NM. See ya.
LIFLESS GUY NUMBER ONE IS OFFLINE

Everyday people say that, and everyday people don’t get bored. Before you text somebody can’t you just assume that they aren’t doing anything remotely entertaining and save your self a few minutes of life? I mean really, they wouldn’t be talking to you if they were doing something interesting now would they?

Another thing I hate about chat stuff is the stupid shortcuts: LoL, ROFL, OMG. Why cant you just say the actual words. Half the time you say Lol, you didn’t even laugh! Why not write CL (which means courtesy laugh) instead of making people think that they are funny! Next is ROFL, have you ever seen somebody receive a message then start rolling around on the floor laughing? Then there’s OMG. Instead of writing that, write wow or something. It’s still three letters long (saving you from the torment of having to spend a couple of seconds typing) and it is an actual word, thus making you seem less ‘buttish’ My all time worse short cut is ‘NM’. When did people become so boring that they decided, “Why not make something that says that we aren’t doing anything fun.” Did somebody get so fed up with having to write, “Nothing much because I am a boring recluse.” That they narrowed it down to two letters.

As bad as shortcuts are, they can not compare to how annoying people are when they use shortcuts in regular conversations. If I had a penny for every time I said something to someone and they said, “Lol or ROFL” I would have enough money to…now that I think about it a dollar doesn’t go very far these days. I am not going on a ‘Nicholas tirade’ I am just saying that people need to keep their annoying ‘chat language’ in cyber-conversations and not come up to me (who is one of the few that enjoys talking the good old way) and say annoying three letter shortcuts!

It is not just the annoying chats that annoy me, it is the people who are using them non-stop. The amount of people you see now-a-days on their Blackberry asking somebody, “What’s up.” And then receiving confirmation that the other person is up to ‘NM’ Is just horrendous! The other day my mum nearly ran over some dumb-ass that decided that it was a good idea the text somebody in the middle of the road!

As if speaking like a robot and texting in the middle of the road isn’t enough, I really hate the people that BBM each other when they are talking to you! There you are being interesting and actually using your voice and then they say: “Excuse me but I need to make sure that this person is up to ‘NM’.” Also, there are those that just have to text people while you’re at a movie with them. Are they blind? Can they not see the ‘turn off your cell phone’ sign. You do not know how annoying it is hen you’re at the ending of a movie and you are completely absorbed by over-exposure to awesomeness and then you are brought back to reality by the vibration of a phone.

Then there are those who go on Facebook (on your computer) when they’re at you’re house. I AM TALKING TO YOU JACOB!!! DON’T PRETEND THAT YOU DON’T KNOW!!! It is unbelievably annoying when somebody is at your house and then they decide that they have to go on Facebook to make sure that everybody is up to ‘NM’. For god’s sake people, a Blackberry is kind of acceptable I guess because it is their thing and is small. But a computer? It is your computer! And it is big and distracting! It is so annoying!

To conclude, stop messaging each other all of the freaking time!!!!!!!! RAWR (that was supposed to intimidate you into stopping messaging…it failed didn’t it.)

Memoir Monday: Sock, Croc and Two Smoking Barrels

Memoir Monday

Sock, Croc and Two Smoking Barrels Before I start writing this awesome story I just want to warn you that it is more ‘slice-of-lifey’ than ‘memoir mondayey’. So here goes. Also, the title is a spoof of an old movie.

It was a regular Saturday morning: hot and boring. I rose from my bed thinking about the stuff I had to do that day: buy shoes, watch ‘Wall Street Two’ and (most importantly) finish watching ‘Dexter’ season four. I felt impelled to finish ‘Dexter’ first seeing as it was the most entertaining. Also, I completely abhor buying shoes! The interminable selection seems to go on forever, even though every shoe is the same.

In my mum’s mind: ‘the early bird catches the worm’. So we had to get the shoes and watch ‘Wall Street’ early to beat the crowds. Anybody that has met my mum will know that. Have you ever seen her pick me up from the mall after eight o’clock? That meant that ‘Dexter’ had to wait…NOOOO!!! For shoe-buying purposes I was going with the sock-croc look. The crocs are easy to slip off and everybody seems to get offended by people not wearing socks in shoe stores.

For those of you that are ‘fashion-blind’, you cannot wear socks and crocs together. The croc already looks stupid enough as a stand-alone piece of clothing, (seeing as it is no more than a colorful eraser full of holes) never mind the socks beneath it. Back to the story: I walked into the mall, wearing the dreaded clothes. As if that wasn’t enough, I just had to be wearing shorts to made the disgusting combination on my feet a thousand percent more visible.

I personally feel profoundly sorry for those who casually wear them, looking like they have no idea about the catastrophe going on below them. How can they not take amiss to the intense ugliness? While you’re wearing that, why not pop on those ‘heli-hats’ (the things nerds wear in cartoons) and that full-body, green thong from Borat?

Anyways, (Quick message to Dyvon and Mikkel: saying the words: ‘anyways’ and ‘okay’ does not make you gay!), we had just bought the shoes. (Here goes another rant). Have any of you hit up Dunkin’ Donuts recently? Have you noticed that they no longer serve the only good donut: the chocolate filled one? They have hundreds of crap flavors (emphasis on crap), but is a ‘Chocolate Cream’ too much to ask for? What they have on the menu is: pineapple cream, ‘Dulce de Leche’ (whatever the hell that is) and Bavarian freaking cream!! Not only that, but ECLAIRES!!!! E-FREAKING-CLAIRES!!!!!! They’re not even donuts for Christ sake! Munchkins are acceptable I guess because they are ‘Dunkin’ Donuts’ own creation…unlike éclairs! Max’s definition of éclair: long, annoying Bavarian cream! (This is where that tirade becomes relevant) My shoes are waaaay to long and thin. Anybody that has seen them will tell you that, (consult Mikkel for details). So my shoes are now called ‘The Éclairer-darers’…my family likes to make stupid names for stuff. Examples include: omelet = Ommer-Dommer, hamster = Hammer-Dammer and so on.

What I realized that humiliating day was that I really need to be more observant so that I won’t be seen in public with such apparel. Oh-yeah, I forgot to tell you how ‘Wall Street’ went. It was being screened in the biggest room ‘cinepolis’ had to offer: the 3-D one. Of course (seeing as ‘Wall Street’ was a sequel to the ‘Wall Street’ from twenty-three years ago) it was hard to see anybody under the age of sixty and the room was half-full. The last thing I needed at that point in time was about seventy snobby, old people seeing the ‘croc-sock’ combo.

Morale of the story: Be observant and DO NOT WEAR SOCKS WITH CROCS!!

Poetry Friday: My (Annoying) Brother

Poetry Friday

My (Annoying) Brother

Is annoying,
Fun,
Mean,
And kind.
Simultaneously.

Whether he is shouting,
Because he wants a can of coke.
Or giggling,
Because he has one.

Whether he is walking,
To the fridge most likely,
Or running,
To punch me in the face.

Whether he is moaning,
Which is most of the time,
Or eating bread from Pan y Canela,
Which is what he was probably moaning about in the first place.

Whether he is being likeable,
A rare occasion,
Or accusing Jacob of being a liar,
Nine times out of ten being right.

Whether he is saying something interesting,
Another rare occasion,
Or threatening to kill me
If I take the front seat on Space Mountain…Long story.

Whether he is interrupting me while watching Dexter,
Not a good thing to do,
Or doing the smart thing,
And leaving me alone.

Whether he is watching T.V.
A regular day-to-day thing,
Or shouting at me,
Telling me that Silly Bandz are for boys.

Whether he is good,
Or bad,.
I am stuck with him,
Even if I don’t want to be,
Because he is my brother,
And will always be my brother.

He is the silver lining in a black cloud,
And the black cloud containing a silver lining.

He is water in a hot desert,
He is a hot desert containing water.

He is an episode of Dexter after a long day
…I cant really turn that one around.

He looks like a (less stupid) Justin Bieber.

He sounds like a morning breeze.

He smells like Taylor Swift’s voice
…which is a bad thing.

He feels warm and caring,
He feels cold and hateful.

He is my brother
(*Insert sigh of sadness*)

Slice of Life: Return to Dexter

Slice of Life Thursday

Return to Dexter

I have changed my font back to normal size because yesterday’s big letters looked ugly and unorganized so sorry if these small letters intimidate you. For those of you that don’t already know, I am a T.V. addict! Before you say, ‘everybody’s a T.V. addict!’ I once watched five-and-a-half hours of non-stop Prison Break. By non-stop I mean I didn’t stop for the bathroom, food or my family. In addition to that, that was on a school day…jealous much?

But now, there is a new element that has returned into my life, something I have locked outside in the cold long ago. That something is (dramatic pause) ‘Dexter’, the show not the ninth grader with the ‘wolverine’ chops (I call sideburns ‘chops). For those of you that don’t know, ‘Dexter’ is a show about the life of a serial killer…how can anybody not like that?

I -along with Vigan- am eagerly awaiting the premier of the fifth season. It debuts in three days. (YAY!!!) So forgive me if I do not attend school for the next few weeks. If only school could leave me be to get some real work done (by which I mean Dexter). It is constantly ruining my ‘eat, sleep, T.V.’ schedule. For example last night, I had to write my report on the chemical changes I noticed, study for Mrs. Culberson’s version of the ‘oh my freaking god test!’ and get at least an hours worth of Dexter under my belt.

Soon, I worry that I will have almost as much ‘no-life-li-ness’ as Vigan. Who has told me what happens at the end of season four- the one I am currently watching. So remind me to kill him tomorrow…Dexter is such a good role model for kids. That is another thing I have to put on my ‘why I hate Vigan’ list. If you want to know what is on the list, here it is :

1.) It is unimaginably annoying to have somebody say, “Guess what?” in a voice that leads you to believe that they are going to say something remotely intriguing and then saying, “BLACK OPS”. (The new Call of Duty game for those of you that lives).

2.) He said that Dexter is better than Prison Break…it IS NOT better than Prison Break. Ribs cant even to begin to compare to Prison Break.

3.) Like I have told you, he ruined Dexter season four! L

4.) He didn’t join my epic lunch table resistance. And my table resistance kicks-ass!

5.) He said ‘Hit Girl’ sucks. For those of you that don’t know (wow, I have said ‘for those of you’ four times so far in this post) ‘Hit Girl’ is that little purple haired girl from the movie Kick Ass.

6.) He is almost as annoying as the movie ‘Inglorious Basterds’ (it is the name of a movie and is spelt with an ‘E’ so it is not a bad word). I hated Inglorious Basterds!

I haven’t really ‘sliced my life’ yet, (slice of life is the name of Dexter’s boat…how awesome is that?) so here goes. I am going to describe to experience of watching Dexter for you boring people out there that haven’t seen it.

This is one-hundred percent true and two-hundred percent embarrassing. And just to throw it out there, I am in kind of a rush here because I have two episodes loaded on my laptop as I write this. I will probably have five before you read this. I was staring at the screen of my laptop, sweat forming on my hairline due to the sheer suspense despite the fact there were two fans operating in the room and it was seven o’clock so no heat from the sun was coming from outside. My fingers were tingling at the thought ‘will he get away, or will he be caught? When will the ‘trinity killer’ strike again. Will Dexter stop him?’ I almost let out a scream at one point…how embarrassing is that?

So there, my life can now consider itself sliced. I hope you enjoyed reading and I have embedded the preview for the fist season so if you want to watch it and see how good it is for yourself… watch it! NOW!!!!

P.S. I don’t mean any offence to Vigan. Ranting about him has become part of my blog-schedule.

Wordly Wise Wednesday: SCREW GOLDFISH!!!

Wordly Wise Wednesday

Screw Goldfish!!!

As you have probably noticed, the font I use is bigger. This is because many people got intimidated by the small letters and didn’t read my stuff.

If you own a goldfish then I mean every slight piece of offence you can find in this story. I just wanted to make that clear before I started.

Let me ask you a question, “At what point in your life did you decide to buy a goldfish?” Before you answer let me guess: After trying to be an affable person and trying to make friends, people took amiss and began to abhor you and that made you an irascible recluse. I say that because that is the only excuse for having such a boring pet, either that or you have a rail-road spike going through your head because you are never going to meet a sage saying, “E=MC Squared and have you met my fish Goldy?” are you?

After you have purchased the fish, what do you do with it? Watch as it swims aimlessly around in circles? Did your parents get so sick of your interminable entreating for a dog that they got impelled to buy you a fish to shut you up?

The next issue is the cleaning. Would you rather spend a minute picking dog poo up from the floor or spend an hour-and-a-half cleaning a bowl? While on the topic of ‘bowls’ I want to say that, “I enjoy customizing the bowl” is not a valid reason to get a fish. Did the idea of putting an over-priced, flimsy Sponge-Bob statue next to your dog’s bed haunt you to the point that you said, “That does it! I am putting this spongy piece of crap in a bowl if it is the last thing I do!” and make you go on a ‘Nicholas’ tirade.

I understand how snapping, saliva-covered jaws and teeth can leave you tremulous but if that is the case get a hamster or something that is remotely entertaining. Look at me for instance. I got sick of asking my ‘douchey’ parents for a dog and got a hamster and I am currently training him to be a ninja…I really need a life. But then again, at least I don’t get profound happiness to a new addition to my facebook friend list. Those of you that do, stop acting that a new friend is as good as ribs…because it isn’t!

If you enjoy the sound of the bubbles from the filter exploding and the vibrations reverberate around the bowl then you are no less boring than ‘Mr. I invested eight-hundred hours o my time in Team Fortress Two (a really crappy video game)’…also known as Vigan.

I mean at what point in your life did you decide, ‘I’m going to get something that I have to put a lot of my money and time into and not be able to play with it, hold it or throw it at my brother?’. GET A DOG PEOPLE!!! You can actually hold it, play with it and throw it at your brother. (It’s what I did…twice). Or if you cannot get a dog and you are desperate for a pet, get a cat! You can train it to ask if it can ‘has a cheezburger’. Look at Vigan for example, he has nine cats! Actually scratch that- I cant handle the stress that comes with one Vigan.

I know that we had to write something thought-provocative and you came here to read something thought-provocative…obviously you came to the wrong place. Instead of being interesting today, I wanted to write about how ‘sucky’ fish are. Also I had to write about my love for Lol Cats. How can you not like cute, smiley cats dat cant spel coractaly? (Lol Cat grammar was deliberate by the way). Anyways, (Quick message to Dyvon and Mikkel: Saying okay and anyways does not make me gay!) to conclude: I HATE GOLDFISH!

Confession Tuesday: Annoying Cat

Confession Tuesday

Annoying Cat

*Quick Warning: If you haven’t seen any of the ‘Grudge’ movies (or ‘Scary Movie 4’) this won’t be as funny as it should be…or make as much sense. Yes I know that I just made it clear that I find myself funny. (Smugness is awesome)

I don’t really have a lot to confess to (seeing as I am so perfect (Smugness is awesome)) so I am just going to write about something that has been bugging me for a while.

For those of you that don’t know, I ride the bus. All of you know that busses suck (and mine is no exception). I spend two hours every day sitting on an uncomfortable chair, having me annoying sister hit me and listening to seventh graders try to sing Tik Tok (that really crappy Ke$ha song (yes I had to write Ke$ha with the dollar sign)) and failing. But then again, all of that is to be expected but there is something else…something evil. Everyday my bus passes by the UNICEF building and everyday when my bus passes by the UNICEF building there is a cat sitting on the front steps. It is fat, grey and looks much like the fat guy from Borat, (allusion to ‘Meet the Spartans’, of course the cat does not look like the fat guy form Borat).

The cats stare somehow manages to pierce the heavy, black tint on the window with his gaze. Whenever our bus passes it stares into my beautiful, blue eyes (smugness is awesome!). I stare back. It mindlessly stares at me (like Vigan playing video-games). Nobody else seems to notice the cat, maybe I am going crazy and seeing things (maybe having Mari in all of my classes is annoying me to the point that I am going insane) or maybe people are too afraid to return the cats stare.

The cat reminds me of that naked, little, Japanese boy from ‘The Grudge’. For those of you that haven’t seen the grudge the naked kid always crouches up into a ball makes a ‘Predator’ sound, meows and then kills you (I embed the trailer so you can see it and to grasp the concept). The cat is always sitting and waiting for me. I am pretty sure that one day it will get me…BOM-BOM-BOM!

*Me trying to make you feel like you are me typing the story…and failing*

Wait a minute I just heard a sound….Oh, false alarm ‘30 Rock’ has just started, (YAY!). But wait, there is another sound. Something draining out Alec Baldwin’s bad acting…it sounds like a…predator. Oh-no! (That was supposed to be dramatic). Hair seems to be forming on the corner of the ceiling (a sign of an undead, naked, Japanese person is about to kill you). If you are reading this then I am most likely dead…give this story to the government, or your friends anyone! I am witnessing paranormal activity…is that a- is that a little, naked, Japanese boy? Oh no! It is! And he’s…meowing!!! The horror! He is coming towards me, “No! NOOOOO! Get away from me….”

Memoir Monday: My T.G.I Fridays Conpiracy Theory

Memoir Monday

My T.G.I. Fridays Conspiracy Theory

This memoir is more of a concept then a story, but I did learn something about myself so the story is still passable…no matter how bad it is. The realization behind the concept is that I am a super-mega genius and have information that people will kill for. I am about to share that information with you. I just want you to brace yourself for what you are about to hear…T.G.I. Fridays is evil!

Now, I know what you are thinking: ‘T.G.I. Fridays can’t be evil, the food they serve is too good!’ WRONG! T.G.I. Fridays supports human-trafficking, child labor and prostitution! It is almost as evil as (dare I say it) Ronald McDonald. (*Cue suspenseful scary bom-bom-bom*). I have not-so-hard evidence and a witness to prove my hypothesis.

Let’s just assume you are a seven or eight year old boy or girl who needs to go to the bathroom and your neglectful parents refuse to accompany you because they are marveling over the quality of the food. Leaving you to walk alone through the playground and into the bathroom. And there is somebody sitting on the bench, somebody you don’t notice - watching you. He waits for the time to be right (when the fat guy sitting on the nearest table has just been served his food) to stand up and take out the syringe filled with ‘Azaperone’ (Azaperone is a kind of tranquilizer) and follow you in. Until finally he injects you, you have no idea about what has just happened until you wake up on a plane heading for Afghanistan where you will then be turned into an underage prostitute. And while all this is happening your parents have just finished eating their ribs….(dramatic, sudden pause to let you wonder whether that was connotation or denotation).

Those of you who have seen the movie Taken know how badly stuff like that effects families and those of you that haven’t need to get out from the rock you’ve been living under for the past couple of years. Anyways Kim (Liam Neeson’s daughter in the movie) has to go through all of the stuff that I just mentioned and that was about to be my sister and her annoying friend.

So here is what happened that led me to believe that all of that was true. My brother (Charlie), my parents and I were sitting around a table at T.G.I’s and I was eating my severely over-cheesed bacon-cheeseburger. (Which just reminded me that last night I became a vegetarian…I bet my vegetarianism will only last a week so there is no need to point it out). And Immi and her annoying friend were swimming and splashing the pool that belonged to the hotel next door,(even though they weren’t allowed to.) Never leaving the corners of our eyes.

After a while I stopped eating the nasty bacon-cheeseburger (it was over-cheesed to the point that I could no longer eat it) and walked over to Immi and Sophie (My sister and annoying friend). I told them that they couldn’t swim in the pool but they still lingered (like a bad-fart). Protesting, “But everybody is watching us!” And fair enough six of the staff members were staring at them, jaws on the floor (no doubt thinking about how much they would go for on ‘Pedophile eBay’)

Okay maybe if the evidence isn’t very hard but I still believe what I just said. If recommend heeding this warning: DO NOT GO TO T.G.I. FRIDAYS!!! If you don’t then we’ll see who will be laughing when you get shipped to Afghanistan. Also those of you who live near T.G.I’s (you know who you are) I recommend locking you doors, barring your windows. Because they will look for you, they will find you and they will kill you. (Allusion for the win!)

I just one to add that I am tired so forgive me for the crappiness of this story. L

Juggling

Juggling

I throw the balls in the air,

They all come back so suddenly,

So surprisingly,

I catch another and throw it back,

Then another, then another.

Knowing that if one hits the floor,

I will be in trouble.

Knowing that if one hits the floor,

It could only be my fault.

I catch another and toss it back,

The balls become heavier,

Their touch was bitter.

They became harder to catch,

Harder to throw.

More and more balls are thrown at me,

I catch them all,

All but one.

One touches the ground,

Crack.

And they all fall on me,

And only me.

I fall to the floor,

Not able to handle any more.

I am now stuck trapped-

Somebody has locked the door.