Oh, and by the way,if one day you should happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandary, full of loathing and self-doubt, and wracked with the pain and isolation of your meaningless existence, at least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that somewhere out there in this crazy old mixed up universe of ours, there's still a little place...
Interests:People who actually know what they're talking about Expertise:Alternating between bemused and thoughtful looks. Occupation:Pondering Industry:Philae + Sophos = Philosophy
Shizzle was pondering, as he sometimes did to make sure his brain still worked properly. The only hitch was, how could you be sure if your brain wasn't working properly? Yeah, ponder that one for a while. Ever since the second dream, (Unaired on this site) he had been thinking more and more. Maybe the tree he had lounged underneath in said episode had been under some kind of enchantment, causing all of it's partakers to become thoughtful. Nah, who would enchant a tree like that, for real? A third grade teacher? Now a tree that ate everyone except the Cheat and me, now, that would be something. Ahem. Yes, Shizzle was pondering about many things, but foremost in his mind was the girl. Meggie, she had told him, and given him one of those smiles. As if she knew you had stolen the cookies, but admired your fortitude and stealth, and wanted to know if she could have a few. Shizzle wished he had some cookies, just so's he could give her some. With a brief sigh, he hoisted himself to his feet, and walked to the brink of the ledge he had been sitting on. It jutted out from the top of the mountain the merry band currently found themselves camped on. As he stood gazing over the land from atop the promontory, the thought presented itself that this particular landscape looked not at all dissimilar to somewhere he had been before. Ah... that is, the view looked kinda familiar. He wondered what exactly would await him, and if the story's intended plot line would dramatically change or not... He shrugged ambiguously. One thing was for sure; thinking wasn't very satisfying.
Well, I want more comments, so I guess I'd bloody well better write another post, if you'll pardon my English.
I'm leaving for school on Saturday, and as much as I've enjoyed doing absolutely nothing at all, the novelty was beginning to wear. I'll be almost glad to go back, even gladder to get a job, and almost positively ecstatic if that job should happen to be working at the skating rink.
If anyone out there owns rechargable batteries, then you have no doubt felt the same things about them as I recently have. You never know if they're fully charged unless you take them straight out of the charger, and so tend to blame them for any malfunctions that the device they're powering may have. You get kind of miffed at them for a while, and shove them in the charger even though they probably don't need charging. Then later, when you take them back out, they're all nice and warm, kind of like taking clothes out of the dryer in an acidic kind of chemically way, and you just hold them in your hands for a while, relishing their radiance and glorious second-hand current, and all is forgiven. Well, maybe not the same exact way as I have, but you know.
A portion of the day that could be construed as controversial is that oh-so-sketchy period right after you wake up. Let's say I have a case of bad breath first thing in the morning, totally hypothetically of course. What should I do? Should I A) Go brush my teeth B) Chew some delightfully minty gum C)Pop some cashews and fughettaboudit Golly, tough choice, right? Depends on all kinds of circumstances, contingencies and collagens, right? Collagens have something to do with lips, right? Well I'm behind you 100% if you agreed with any or all of the above. That's right. Carry on, Mr. Bowditch.
Do you know what I heard? I heard that there was snow and ice as far south as Texas! If that indeed be the case, I can hear the one thought bombinating around the many skulls of this nation: "What about beach volleyball?!" In answer... "There won't BE any beach volleyball!" *Collective gasp* In self-same manner as said adieu to our favorite netted game, I bid farewell to thee also, fair reader. Stay out of the garbage cans of life, and have wonderful and fun filled weekends.
Would you like to know the big picture? Divine the great scheme of things? Discover how your life has significance and purpose in all of it's apparent ignominy? Get hep to the all-encompassing enumeration of the world as we know it? Figure out why our material existence in all of it's complexity functions and relates to you as it does? Look no further.
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude." ~Bill S. Preston, Esquire
Deep? Yes. Profound? Certainly. Pithy? As a pomegranite. But all this to tell you that I got a cell phone for Christmas, it's number is 570-417-0387, and that you are to call at your earliest convenience because I want to hear from you, that's right, all of you, at this very moment? I guess so, yeah. Pretty unecessary, but it was fun for me. I'm not at all sure that's how you're supposed to spell pomegranite, though. No, it's too late to look it up, I don't care anymore. Oh? Yeah? Well you can just get off my site then, see if I care. And shut UP abut my green hair already! It is neither mold or algae, and it is most certainly not a wig! What's that you say? Just teasing? Well let's see how a good portion of your rear end likes to be teased then, huh? Um, okay, that was about as wrong as I like to get on this site, I'm now going to bed. May cute girls in Osh-Kosh pervade my dreams, Bi-gosh.
I just had a two-hour phone conversation with home, in which numerous things were brought up and discussed, not the least of which being coming home today!!! Also mentioned were the My Chemical Romance concert I went to with a couple friends a while back and the current bleached state of my hair. (Soon to be green. Yes, I celebrate Christmas in my own way, it's true, but that doesn't mean I don't have a merry spirit. OH! All youse guys from home reading this, we should have a ceremonial ritual kind of thing for it. You know, gather round a volcano with a lovely virgin and chant "Oooma-Chaka, Oooma-Chaka" as we prepare to throw her in... that kind of deal. And Ben, if you say anything that even remotely resembles the word "Sharkbait," or utter a single "Oo-ha-ha," we get to dye yours too.) The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air came up as well, and cell phones for me, muhahaha, and then Mike and I spent about an hour talking about random things most of which I shan't mention. One of the reccuring things we discussed was advertising. We are of the opinion that beer commercials are probably the best commercials out there today. Not only are they the most randomly funny commercials out there, they totally and completely accomplish their goal. I mean, we don't even drink the stuff, but already we like Bud Light because their line of radio ads are hilarious and empathetic. If I was going to try a beer, I would probably try that one first, just because my mental associations with the product are ones of happiness and laughter. And the people that work for their company have to be great too, right? They came up with such geat commercials they have to be!
This led us to the conclusion that we should work in advertising. So Mike and I, along with AJ and Ben, we decided, should be the creative genius behind some major corporation and make oodles of noodles. You know, so just in case they drop the gold standard and adopt pasta as the new one we'll be sittting pretty. We already have a great ad for Verizon, are you ready? Okay, picture this: A bunch of teenagers are at a party around a pool or something, and as they meet and schmooze with one another, they whip out their cell phones and inquire..."Hey dude, you cellin'?" To which they all reply in groovy tones, "Oh, you know it!", "Yeah man!", and "Dude, I'm cellin' like a felon!" And eventually a mildly geeky guy walks up to their smiling clique, holds out his Tracfone and says hesitantly, "Hey...I'm cellin'.." And they're all like "Dude, you are SO not cellin'!" At which point the screen goes black and the words "Tracfones Suck." fall out of the sky and land in bold yellow print, follwed by "Get Verizon." follwed by "Fo'shizzle." We put that last bit in just to appeal to our black veiwers. That'll probly earn us a few boxes of uncooked lasagna noodles. Or maybe Fettuchini, even... Ooooo, Fettuchini...
We also think that Christopher Walken should star in a comedy movie with Bill Murray. I mean, Chris always plays dour roles in movies, stereotypically Jacob from Sarah, Plain and Tall. But he is actually funny to amazing proportions. "Gene, this time I want you to explore the studio space... I mean really Explore the Space!!" Like in aforequoted SNL skit with Will Ferrel. And Bill Murray is just...Bill Murray. Yeah, yeah, see? You know. And then we could throw Stewie Griffin in there somehow for a random cameo or something... The possibilies are endless. But now I must away with me, and catch up on all the sleep I missed while with Sean, bleaching hair at 3:30 in the morning and walking-thru the drive-thru at Sonic.
Adieu.
P.S. If you write 040404 on a calculator and turn it upside-down, it says hohoho. Just thought you might like to..Ahem, hear that, you know? I just ate a three-foot long Pixie Stick; for the love of Pete, get me a mattress, I'm gonna crash...
P.P.S. Also, Please, for the love of Pete, DO NOT feed the Huuuuuuuudge.
