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| I haz uh internetz rant!The front page of xanga pisses me off. That's it, plain and simple. Namely, it's those little series of questions in the box right below the featured question bullmess.
The religious one's in particular get to me. For example, one asked "Do Atheists have morals?" What the fuck kind of question is that? It all boils down to the person themselves, not what they believe in. Just because a guy believes in God doesn't mean he's not a jackass. I know the Truth company is involved with xanga. Good lord, I hate Truth. A bunch of self-righteous ass goblins who think they're doing the world good by force feeding me those little dancing cartoons who are trying to be "Ironic."
And the featured questions. Don't get me started on those. The thing about the Featured Questions is that I can answer most of them in one sentence. For example, "What would you do if someone pointed a gun to your head?" "Ask them not to shoot." Not much of a weblog, is it? If you ask me, it all went downhill when xanga "Upgraded" It was fine in the first place, Damn it! NO! FUCK YOU! I WON'T GO PREMIUM! KEEP YOUR DAMN TRUTH BADGE! Xanga lost popularity to myspace. And by popularity I mean most people my age went to Myspace. (I've got a myspace. Don't judge me.) So they upgraded and raped my private home page and now I have to sift though a bunch of recommendations and spam just to see if someone replied to my comment or added something readable.
I know complaining about xanga is nothing new. I've done it before. But still, it pisses me off to see a perfectly good site like Xanga whore itself out like it has. Maybe whoring isn't the right term... how about... unneeded adaptations! That's a good term.
It's like Playtime. When I was little, you played when you wanted to. Your buddy came over, you played, then when it was bedtime, he or she went home. Now we have "Playdates" Have you heard of that!? Appointments to play? I heard a mom set up a playdate for her son the other day while at Kroger and it was everything in me not to go over and beat her brainless with the french bread I was holding. (it was stale. I could've robbed the place with it if I wanted to.)
I'm getting off point, though. What I'm trying to say is whatever happened to "You comment me, I'll comment you, if I like you enough I'll subscribe!" Huh? I miss that. Like playtime. Actually, no. Terrorizing white trash and breaking shopping carts at walmart is much more entertaining that playing pokemon.
Please, xanga. Return to your old ways. I miss the way we used to be. How we were so close. Before the term "blogger" pissed me off.
On a side note- My xanga is 3 1/2 years old. Holy damn. | | |
| And they get to sit next to my shlong!I have a pair of plaid blue boxers.
And Damn it, they are LUCKY. I swear they are. I wore them the first time me and Ambur kissed, I wore them when I got the highest graded performance on the history TAKS thingy. If I passes a major test without studying, if I found twenty bucks in the streetm If I get hit on by some skank on myspace or at the mall, by god you can bet I'm wearing them.
I dare might say I love them. Even more than my Black Converse shoes. Those sumbiches' have taken a beating, by god. Three years of mud, rain, dog shit, piss, rocks, grass, sun, sand, and they're still in great shape. Cost me 12 bucks. Still, they aren't lucky. and I've also got a strict hierarchy of what boxers are what. For example, the white pair with orange fives on them are cursed. Period. It just reeks of bad Ju Ju vibes. The red plaid ones, while a bit small, aren't cursed or blessed. They're just boxers.
You may wonder why I bring up my underwear out of the blue like this. I actually do have a reason. Me and Cindy were conversing, and, in an effort to get a laugh out of her, yelled "Panties!" she then yelled "Thongs!" to which I responded "boxers!" she then told me "I'm wearing those, Josh! They're green plaid!" (She's in her pajamas. We were texting earlier, and it was like 1 in the morning.) I then told her "I'm wearing my lucky blue plaid ones!" She then laughed and said "That's cute." Cute? CUTE? Damn it, the lucky boxers are to be respected! I told Ambur about my lucky underware and she said the same thing. That's it's cute.
There really is no point to the story, really. I didn't have a very good day. I woke up this morning around nine, almost threw up and had the worst case of the runs. I managed to sleep until eleven when I woke back up, nearly through up and took a huge dump. I fell back asleep until about 4:30, when I felt better.
Anyway, I'd love to hear about some lucky articles of clothing you guys wear. Don't be shy, we're all friends here! | | |
| We're having fun, Damn it!I've got a hater! Yes dear friends Me, Josh, Has a hater. A real, face-to-face one too! None of that "Cyberbulling" shit that causes pussys of pussy pussness to feel scared. Or to shoot up schools. Anyway, I know who he is, to! He's Lauren's current boyfriend, Skylar. I've never even talked to the guy, he just doesn't like me.
I'm not sure why, but I... I kinda like having a hater. It makes me feel.... Validated. You know, like I'm well enough known at Bowie for someone to dislike me for no reason! He's a stereotypical emo, to. You know, tight clothes, eyeliner, sits by himself at lunch, you get the picture. I've never been much for labels, but there's a reason stereotypes are formed, you know?
Anyway, I'm guessing I should define who a "hater" is. A hater is someone who doesn't like you for no reason. They aren't bullies, because bullies beat people up. A hater normally talks alot of smack, but does nothing. Not to be confused with a prick, as pricks are normally haters, but not all haters are pricks. All pricks are dicks, however. And nobody likes Dicks. Dicks are different from douchebags, but that's another story.
But back to Skylar. He's an anime nerd, of course, that's how he and Lauren met. The guy never says anything to me. Just gives me dirty looks. At first, I thought he had me confused with John. John's very.... outspoken with his opinions, and tends to rub people the wrong way. However, Johns bark is much worse than his bite, yet lots of people confuse me with him and some even try to start fights. John made a remark about how much he hates emo people, and ever since then lots of people I don't know come up to me and tell me to shut the hell up. I explain that I'm not John, I am, in fact, Josh. They then of course argue with me that I am in fact John, which leads to me arguing I know what my god damn name is, and I'm not John, then they usually get frustrated and leave.
Like I said, the guy doesn't like me, and I feel like I've accomplished something. Like somehow, I'm popular enough to have someone I don't know hate me. I'm not popular, of course, the majority of bowie is gangsta-wanna be blacks, and being a tall pale white guy with long hair and black clothing, it tends to offset some people. Still, in some odd way, I feel.... well, I said it before, I feel validated.
You know something, I'd like to thank the guy. I'd like to thank him for the self-esteem boost he's given me. However, I'm sure he'd probably get even more pissy, and I know he hates it when Lauren hugs me hello. So I'm guessing asking Laur-laur to tell him "Thank you" is out of the question. I'm also guessing he'd deny my friend request if I tried to hit him up on the 'space. I've learned that some people will never like me for no reason. And I'm perfectly fine with it.
Anyway, summed up, I'm popular to have a hater! And I'm going to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow for Ambur's baby brother's birthday party. :D
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| My Counselor told me to suck it.I'm not sure why lots of my friends come to ME with their problems, but honestly, I wish it'd stop. I'm flattered that some people trust me enough with their problems, and I like helping out a friend in need, don't get me wrong. But the whole "Groovy Guidance Counselor" (As Dr. Cox from Scrubs put it) is really starting to irritate me. Namely because I either can't relate to the problem or it's some stupid teenage drama bullmess. I'm a sheltered white child, I don't know much about how hard life can be. Lauren, for example is always having problems that won't matter within a year, hell, even a month. At all. I wouldn't even consider them problems, more like.... inconveniences. I care deeply for Lauren, but sometimes I just want to slap her for worrying about the things she does. Becki's the same way. I'm not as close to Becki as I am with Lauren, and Becki tends to keep to herself about problems. I take that back, she talks about them, just to her very close friends. But Beck-beck is ALWAYS caught up in some stupid "Dawsons Creek" like problems. Now, Sometimes people have real problems. Like John. His dad's in jail and his mother left him for a mental hospital. He's home alone. THAT'S a problem worth talking about. He wanted to hang again today, but Walter was with him and Walter annoys the piss out of me, he's super destructive, and would probably rape my sisters. Not a nice guy. But I'm getting off point. I'm bad at giving advice. I know it helps just to have someone listen, but honestly, I don't know what to say most of the time. I never have much to say as is.
From what I here, Danae, Johns girlfriend, isn't "Givin' me the sex, damn it!" as John put it. I think she's depressed. I'd love to help her, having gone through it myself, but Danae's the type of person who keeps to herself about her problems, and I can respect that, I'm the same way. I guess the whole reason I got a xanga in the first place was because everyone was too busy telling me about their problems to hear about MY problems. So I write them down to have people I never met say things about them. It's oddly satisfying in a way.
Anyway, is there a polite way to tell someone to quit their bitching? | | |
| Hangin' round....Apparently, lots of people got a chuckle from my last post. I've been busy as of late, what with the girlfriend and 4th of July parties and pissin' away the day with John. I'm a bit nervous now, because I do enjoy comments, and I'm not sure what to write about now. I guess I could.... tell you what I've been up to?
4th of July- Went to Aunt Kathy's for the normal family get-together. Swam, got burn to a crisp. The bathing suit liner hurt my wiener. It's better now. The suit's like a fuckin' cheese grater. For dicks.
Last Saturday- Ambur came over. Went to the park, kissed and hugged alot, I hopped a fence, got trapped, terrorized the soccer moms, we sat on the swings, ran around, then came back and hung around the house together. and.... made out on the... stairs 
Monday- John came over. His dad's in jail, and his mother left him all alone with the apartment, and he said he needed to be around friends. We had an awesome walmart adventure, pissed off lots of people like we did when went with Amanda. Rode the tricycles, scared little kids, laughed at the phrases "Lunch Meat" "Bulk" and "Creamed corn" flipped off some people we didn't know, came back here, played rock band until Cindy texted us that she was at Walmart and bored. We decided to pay her a visit, but she left before we got there. We harassed her about it for hours. But it was all in good fun!
So that was my holiday weekend. Of course, I've lost pretty much all sense of time. Because, you know it's summer vacation. And I'm fuckin' lovin' it, bitches. | | |
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